Their Story
by To be or Not to be Awesome
Summary: Matthew Williams, Canada, 'Birdie', reflects on the many memories, laughs, and pancakes shared between himself and Julchen Beilschmidt. After all, "What is the good of experience if you do not reflect?" -Frederick the Great.
1. Today

Matthew absentmindedly readjusted his red scarf around his neck to prevent the cold February air from seeping into his skin, keeping a firm grip on the bouquet of flowers held between his gloved fingertips, the freshwater turning to icicles on the light green stems due to the steadily decreasing temperature to rival even that of Canada's winter weather.

Being a country (even a country that was almost always forgotten by other countries) required patience, a well-balanced relationship between the heart and mind, and a phone that was never on airplane mode.

Today was the only exception to the latter statement. Only today, though.

He pushed open a metal gate which appeared to be rusting away at the seams, cringing a bit at the loud screech it omitted when it swung open, rattling harshly against the chain link fence. A pregnant silence overhung the area bathed in snow, broken when the personification of Canada resumed walking, his boots crunching the ice with ease, his violet orbs as glassy as the round spectacles perched on the brink of his nose.

The blonde skillfully maneuvered through the secluded area hidden from view by pine trees coated in white, pushing aside branches and leaves, stepping over pine needles and cones, finally stopping when seeing a cracked gray stone riddled with snow-covered ivy and early-blooming pink alpenfee roses.

Matthew tenderly brushed remnants of frost that covered up the inscriptions, setting the blue cornflower bouquet against the stone as he sat on his knees.

"It's been awhile," He spoke in a quiet voice, somehow softer than his normal tone. "I made sure to bring blue cornflowers again. I know how much you liked them."

He paused there, a million things he wanted to say clouding up his thoughts all at once, yet unable to coherently phrase it all into words.

So, Matthew Williams figured he'd start at the beginning.

"I remember when we first met. It was shortly after Arthur's conquests of Nova Scotia, when a lot of German immigrants decided to stay in my country after serving with the British forces. Ludwig visited me to check in on the immigrants, and you tagged along because you wanted to see if you could 'invade my vital regions'. Needless to say, nothing along those lines occurred because you spent the entire time there making forts in the snow and shooting snowballs at people when you thought they weren't looking." He couldn't help but chuckle, remembering how the albino female always (tried and failed) to hit Matthew with her weapons of icy destruction, only to be surprised when he'd duck and cover since he's the personification of Canada for crying out loud.

"The entire time you were there with your brother, you kept trying to come up with a good nickname for me since you thought 'Matthew' didn't sound cool enough. However, literally as you were boarding the ship back to Germany and Prussia, you pointed at me from my place on the docks and called out 'Birdie! That's your nickname, since you remind me of an awesome bird!'." Matthew paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to organize his thoughts and memories better. His brow furrowed slightly when recalling how the crisp autumn wind blew her long white hair into tangles, the morning sunlight making her crimson eyes glimmer like rubies, a wide smile on her face as she proclaimed his latest nickname which squeezed his heart to this day.

"We kept on encountering each other after that, whether formally meeting to discuss international affairs, or spending time together not as Prussia or Canada, but as Julchen Beilschmidt and Matthew Williams." He ignored how his voice cracked a miniscule amount when speaking her name out loud for the first time in a long while, how his throat began experiencing difficulty swallowing, his vision becoming blurry with saltwater. Any other day he would have given up, but today was the only exception. He couldn't abandon her; not after all they had been through in the past.

Matthew clenched his gloved fists to bring him back to reality, taking another deep breath.

He had a feeling he would do that a lot, today.

* * *

(Author's Note: So that's the end of this first (short) chapter. I've been meaning to write a PruCan fanfiction for a while, since it's my favorite Hetalia pairing. I don't know why I decided to do female!Prussia, but the idea kind of stuck. I'll try updating with the next chapter soon, and I'm sorry if my history is off in this chapter or chapters soon to come.)


	2. An Alliance

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, a lot of which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

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"_-I'm telling you, Prussia, mon lapin is only allying with Austria so he can prevent my navy from getting supplies to my other colonies! Where has our amour gone?" The blonde Frenchman expressed dramatically, grabbing his heart as if he was mortally injured and splaying himself against the ledge of his outside balcony where the two nations talked._

_The personification let her infamous 'kesesese' laugh lose at the sight. "It was never there to begin with," She smirked, resting her head on her hand. "I think we should form an alliance to prevent Roddy's precious Theresa from claiming the Habsburg throne. Salic law prohibits a woman from taking the throne anyway, so that could be our excuse to challenge Habsburg power. I bet I could even convince Spain to join us, considering he's been butting heads with Eyebrows since 1739, not to mention he could establish control over Northern Italy in place of Sissy Austria."_

"_What would I gain from this? I know very well that you would have something to gain, otherwise you would not have proposed this idea." Francis remarked as he sat back down in his seat, lightly swishing the wine around in his glass while admiring the way the light made the alcohol glimmer like blood._

_Julchen shrugged, setting her white long boots on top of the table she and France conversed around, ignoring the fact that it was bad manners since they conversed in France's own home. "If you agree to help me defeat the piano-pansy, I'll pull some strings so that Frederick the Second casts a vote for Charles Albert of Bavaria instead of Francis Stephen for Holy Roman Emperor. Not to mention that when we win, it'll be another victory for you against Eyebrow, restoring the status quo ante in the process."_

_The personification of France only raised an eyebrow. "'When we win'?"_

_He nearly jumped in surprise when Julchen's boot was suddenly against his throat, her crimson orbs half-lidded in amusement. "I find your lack of faith in my awesomeness disturbing, Francis."_

"_Excuze-moi, Prussia. And yet you still haven't told me what you want from this." The blonde added hastily, mentally sighing in relief when the pressure on his adam's apple lessened and the albino's foot retracted. _

"_I want to prevent Augustus the Third from possibly taking over Silesia, which, according to the 1537 Treaty of Brieg, rightfully belongs to me! Not to mention I want to prove that both Prussia and Frederick the Second are forces to be reckoned with!" She exclaimed, her eyes sparkling like the wine he was drinking, her usual smirk replaced with a confident smile._

_The blonde across from her only took a small sip of his wine, chuckling lightly. "It is strange to see you place so much assurance into a mere human, Prussia."_

_Julchen leaned back in her chair, her hands behind her feathered ('Prussian Blue') war hat. "I can tell Freddy's going to be great, someday. He has a lot of potential, he just needs to put down the books and pick up a sword." _

_It was around then that she noticed a familiar figure lurking near the door of the balcony, the sight of the person causing her usual smirk to return._

"_Eavesdropping on us, aye Birdie?" Julchen winked teasingly towards Matthew, whose face erupted into fifty shades of red at such a fast rate it resulted in her 'kesesese'ing again. "What brings him here, France?" She questioned when she recovered from her laughter._

"_Ah, Canada managed to sneak past mon lapin to discuss smuggling supplies into some of my other colonies. Though I didn't realize he was listening on us until now…" Francis admitted, wondering why he was unable to notice him until now._

"_That's awesome, Birdie!" She exclaimed happily as she walked over and slung an arm around Matthew's shoulder. "Now that you're here, you can make me some pancakes worthy of being consumed by the awesome Prussia!" Julchen grinned, ignoring how badly the Canadian was blushing or how much the Frenchman across from the two was 'honhonhon'ing at the sight of 'young amour blossoming before his eyes'._

* * *

(Author's Note: God, you wouldn't believe how many times I posted this chapter only to take it down a few seconds later due to error. Again, I apologize if my history is off. And yes, this entire chapter is in flashback.

*This conversation is taking place shortly before the War of the Austrian Succession, which began under the pretext that Maria Theresa wanted to take the Habsburg Throne after the death of her father, Emperor Charles the Sixth of the Holy Roman Empire.

*One of the main advantages England had with being an island nation is that he could easily block France's trading route and prevent him from sending supplies to his colonies, especially under times of war. On the other hand, France preferred to let his colonies fight for themselves, anticipating that they would lose. Spain ended up joining with France and Prussia because of the reasons Prussia mentioned earlier.

*The 'Salic Law' in which Prussia and France mention was a series of law governing civil law, inheritance and the like created during the Middle Ages, which the two countries used against Maria Theresa as an excuse to prevent her from taking the throne.

*Frederick the Second (a person with whom Prussia mentions a lot in this particular chapter) would later be known as Frederick the Great of Prussia (she, unbeknownst to even herself, makes a reference by saying that 'Freddy's going to be great, someday'), who created a good reputation for himself during and after the War of the Austrian Succession. 'Put down the books and pick up a sword' refers to the fact that Frederick preferred education as opposed to warfare. As a part of a defensive treaty set up shortly after Prussia and France formed an alliance, Frederick the Second agreed to vote for Charles Albert of Bavaria instead of Francis Stephen for Holy Roman Emperor, since anyone was a better option for Holy Roman Emperor than Francis Stephen, who was the husband of Maria Theresa.

*Augustus the Third was the Elector of Saxony and King of Poland, who Frederick the Second feared would violate the 1537 Treaty of Brieg by taking over Silesia. The Treaty stated that Brieg, which is the capital of Silesia, would be inherited by the Hohenzollern Dynasty which consisted of Prussian, German and Romanian royals.

*Pancakes were supposedly invented in the 17th century by the Dutch. No clue when/how it got to Canada or when Canadians perfected the art of making pancakes.

*Typical of Prussia to break the Fourth Wall by (somewhat) making a Star Wars' reference.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter (I did A LOT of research to make it possible, though I'm not sure if Wikipedia counts as research), I'll try to update soon


	3. Do you hear the people sing?

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, a lot of which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

**_Bold italic font indicates thought._**

* * *

_Matthew glanced over at the albino female who was currently stuffing her face with pancakes he had recently prepared, wondering why she suddenly insisted on coming over to his residential estate in France (no matter how he phrased it, it kept sounding __wrong__) he currently inhabited for the time being, all the while pouring vast amount of maple syrup over his own plate of consumable heaven._

"_I bet you're wondering," Julchen broke the silence, her mouth still somewhat full. "What I'm doing here, Birdie." She swallowed, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied grimace on her face. After letting her stomach get used to the awesomeness which now inhabited its acidic contents, Prussia suddenly looked Canada directly in the eye, her previous aura of content that hung around her form like a cloud replaced by unusual seriousness. "I'm here to warn you."_

_The bespectacled blonde sitting across from her almost choked on his food given the fact that Prussia, as in, the nation who was notorious for her intelligence and uncanny ability to beat the ever loving shit out of anyone who stood in her way (except for Hungary, but she was a special, frying-pan wielding case) was here to __warn him about something__._

"_W-w-warn me a-about what?" He managed to cough out, mentally loathing his stuttering given how weak he must seem in contrast to the intelligent-and-shit-beating nation who sat before him and was currently attempting to balance a spoon on her gloved index finger._

"_Do you hear the people sing?" Julchen asked Matthew, her classic smirk playing against her angular cheekbones, mentally cursing in German when she dropped her spoon._

"_Singing?" The personification of Canada responded, sounding just as confused as he felt._

"_Singing the song of angry men, of course. It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again." She replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "I can practically smell a revolution brewing."_

_Canada sighed, facepalming while ignoring Prussia's laughter. "__Another revolution?__ I swear, Francis has more revolutions than he has sex…"_

"_Considering I am awesome and I want you to be around so you can continue making me awesome pancakes, I'm warning you now so you can finish up whatever business you have with Francy-pants and get the hell out of here before things get ugly." She stated, resting her head on her hand (oblivious to the yellow bird perched on top of her feathered hat)._

"_How can you tell it'll be ugly?" He questioned the female as he picked up their dishes and made way to the kitchen so he could wash them. _

_She shrugged yet again. "I'm just that awesome. That and everyone's so predictable. Except you, Birdie," Julchen pointed out, one of her light eyebrows raised. "Just when I think I have you all figured out, you pull something that makes me reconsider you as a whole."_

_Matthew could feel his ears turn red after hearing her comment, unsure as to why she would suddenly say something surprisingly nice(?). "Um, thanks. I think." He mumbled embarrassedly, using his neck-long locks to hide his blushing face._

_She cackled again when seeing his response, admiring how freakin' cute he looked when he was overwhelmed by her awesomeness. To overwhelm him even more, she stealthily snuck up behind the shy nation and wrapped her arms around his waist._

_**So not awesome,** Julchen thought disappointedly when seeing his only response was stiffening up like a statue, so she stood on the toes of her boots and blew lightly into his ear, snickering when he gave an awesome response and squeaked._

"_And once again you pull something that makes me reconsider you as a whole, Birdie. That's awesome."_

* * *

(Author's Note: Aughhh, fluffy ending for this chapter was fluffy. Though I can definitely see female!Prussia (hell, Prussia in either gender) purposely 'overwhelming Canada with his/her awesomeness' to provoke an interesting reaction. In regards to why, at least in this fanfiction, Prussia is intelligent (or at least more intelligent than he/she is usually perceived in the fandom) and excellent with strategy (be it battle strategy or predicting other countries/people in general), I thought it would be neat to incorporate a little bit of Frederick the Great's intellectual and strategical awesomeness into Prussia's general awesomeness, if that makes any sense.

Also, this chapter takes place shortly before the French Revolutionary Wars (1792-1802) went on between France's government as well as the governments of other European countries, which is what Prussia was warning Canada about. And, for future reference, these chapters will not be in chronological order in accordance to events! I'll mention beforehand when the chapter takes place when chronological order gets screwed over in future chapters, so don't be confused if one chapter takes place in the 20s while another takes place in the 19th century.

As for why Canada was visiting France to begin with, it was for a temporary vacation.

Did anyone else catch Prussia's Les Miserables reference?

That aside, I'll try updating soon, and reviews are very much appreciated.


	4. The Second-Awesomest Thing in the World

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, a lot of which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

_****__**Bold italic font indicates thought.**_

* * *

_~August 17th, 1786~_

_Matthew woke up to the sound of harsh banging on his front door._

_He quickly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before putting on his glasses and his slippers, wrapping his dark red robe around his body to compensate for his bed's warmth, before heading to see who was practically breaking down the door with their fists._

_The Canadian opened the door only to fall on his back given his 'visitor' tackled him onto the floor, racked sobs omitting from their form as they buried their face in his chest. _

"_J-Julchen? What's going on?" He managed to say after closing the door and recognizing the albino female nation who was practically squeezing the life out of him, her usual feathered hat long discarded on his doorstep, her clothes disheveled as if thrown on in haste. Matthew had never seen the nation act like this before, always wearing a cocky smirk on her face and proclaiming how awesome she was, instead of…whatever the hell this was._

_(Not that he minded, the blonde personification noted guiltily in the back of his mind as he ran his fingers through her silk-like hair in a comforting mannerism, unable to stop himself from blushing.)_

"_H-h-he's gone, Birdie," She croaked out weakly, grabbing onto his nightwear as if it was a life raft, unable to meet his gaze due to her shame. She was the awesome Prussia, damn it! Awesome people don't cry. "O-Old Fritz is dead."_

_Whatever color was present in his face because of how affectionate she was being vanished immediately when hearing Prussia's statement. "He is…?" Matthew spoke in a quieter tone than his usual voice, feeling pity for the white-haired female given how much she cared for the King of her country. _

_Julchen only nodded, finally looking up to meet his bespectacled violet gaze, her own crimson orbs protruding an endless supply of tears. "Died in his study in Sanssouci." _

"_I'm so sorry, Julchen," He responded, wiping the salt-water stains from her cheeks with his thumb, repressing the urge to cry himself since it oddly hurt him to see the Prussian so broken. "Do you want me to make you some pancakes?"_

_Prussia nodded yet again, removing herself from his grasp and offering her hand to him since he was still on the floor, pulling him up when he accepted and heading to the kitchen in grim silence._

_**Why did I come to him first?**__ She mentally questioned herself when she sat down at the table and rested her head on her arms, rubbing some lingering tear droplets from her pink cheeks to somewhat regain her dignity. __**Why didn't I go to West, Francis or Antonio instead?**_

_Julchen glanced over at the blonde Canadian who was making her pancakes, wondering why he was so nice to her in spite of how often she barged in on his peaceful life and made it 'awesomer'. How, even though she disrupted his sleep with her personal/emotional issues, still agreed to help if it meant cheering her up. _

_**Probably because he's so damn nice,**__ She thought, blaming her previous tears for the blush rising on her angular cheekbones as she buried her head deeper in her arms. __**And he wouldn't force me out like West would, try sleeping with me like Francis would, or attempt laughing it off like Antonio would.**_

…_**Or maybe it's because his pancakes are the second-awesomest thing in the world, next to me,**__ Prussia thought as she dug into the aforementioned food when it was ready, not caring how 'un ladylike' she must appear to the nation sitting across from her. __**Maybe.**_

"_-Last year he actually signed a Treaty of Amity and Commerce with your brother so he could recognize him as a new nation. I remember your brother was so happy that he actually kissed Old Frtiz! Which didn't really help the circulating rumors that Freddy was gay, but it was still pretty awesome. God, I sounded like Elizabeta for a minute there…" She expressed, scratching her head due to slight embarrassment. "Though I told everyone that Freddy was going to be great, someday. Just like me to be awesome and totally call it."_

_Julchen glanced over at her Canadian friend, surprised to see he had fallen asleep on the couch they were sharing, his breathing slow and deep, his glasses threatening to fall off his face._

_She shook her head, a small smile on her face at the sight of him looking so relaxed. Prussia reached over and carefully removed his glasses from his face, setting it on the table beside his resting form._

"_You do realize that if you were anyone else, I'd invade your vital regions here and now?" The albino smirked teasingly as she stretched before laying herself more comfortably beside him on the furniture. "Yet," She yawned tiredly, interlocking a hand with his. "It's not considered rape if I know you'll like it."_

_She ended up falling asleep beside him with her usual, cocky smirk on her face._

* * *

Author's Note: This is what happens when it's stormy outside my house and I'm listening to 'Safe and Sound' by Taylor Swift.

Sorry if I made Prussia a bit too emotional in this one, but considering Old Fritz was/is Prussia's favorite boss, I can imagine him/her reacting this way to his death.

*Frederick the Great of Prussia/'Old Fritz' passed away on August 17th, 1786. And yes, he passed in his study in Sanssouci. I don't know when/how he died.

*Frederick the Great signed a Treaty of Amity and Commerce with America in 1785, one year before he died. Also, there were rumors that he was gay/bi. It's unsure whether or not these rumors were true.

That's the end of this chapter, I'll try updating with another one soon. Reviews are love, reviews are life.


	5. Ethereal

This chapter was born from the Hellsing OST, 'Bodhisattva of Cathedral', so I really recommend listening to that while reading this particular one.

* * *

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, a lot of which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

_**Bold italic font indicates thought.**_

* * *

_~July 18th, 1870~_

"_-in ein Preuße, kennt ihr meine Farben?" Julchen sang lightly while brushing through her hair, grimacing a miniscule amount when feeling her hairbrush stumble across a few painful knots. She paused in her song so she could mumble a few German curses beneath her breath in aggravation, tossing the brush out her open window when failing to get rid of her knots._

_However, after hearing a cry of pain outside her window shortly after throwing the item, the Prussian personification let out an (awesome, and in no way girly) scream, grabbed her sword and dashed to her window, prepared to unleash an awesome wave of hell._

"_Who dares disturb the awesome Julchen Beilschmidt?" She demanded as she pointed her sword in the direction of the cry, in no way trying to regain her dignity from screaming like Austria because she was the awesome Prussia, damn it!_

"_It's me, Julchen," A familiar voice replied softly, causing her to drop her sword on the floor of her room. "Could you possibly help me? I'm kind of stuck…" He muttered embarrassedly as the albino quickly complied and reached out to get him out of the tree branches he was ensnared in._

"_What are you doing here, Birdie?" She questioned the bespectacled blonde after helping him out of the tree, crossing her arms as she resided at one end of her bed while he resided at the opposing end. "Usually I'm the one to visit you. Even then, I wait until morning." Prussia explained, more curious in regards to why he was refusing to look at her than why he was caught trying to sneak into her room. Every time they interacted, amethyst orbs never failed to encounter ruby ones. Yet why now was he purposely avoiding looking at her when he went out of his way to visit her?_

"_I-I came to repay a debt," Matthew answered, his cheeks tinged with pink, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, his round glasses threatening to slip off his nose due to constantly looking downwards. "It's my turn to warn you about a war."_

_The reclusive man toyed with the hem of his shirt to somewhat excuse his lack of eye contact, unable to help such a response given how (he couldn't believe how damn cliché he probably sounded in his mind)…oddly erethral Julchen appeared at the moment (**Not that she isn't like that,** He remembered thinking embarrassedly as he now played with his fingers). _

_Her long, white hair fell down her shoulders and back, glistening like fresh snow underneath the moonlight streaming from her windows. Her eyes of carmine, outlined by powdery eyelashes, were mesmerizing as they stood out amongst the black and white of the room. She wore a silk nightgown the color of charcoal which pooled around her form given she sat on her knees._

_Sometimes he really hated his French side, since it took the aforementioned traits into account and was making it even more difficult for him to inform her._

_Julchen reached out and tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at her. A frown was etched onto her expression, her eyes half-lidded with confusion and another emotion Matthew was unable to place. "Why do you not look at me?" She asked hollowly, her hand still on his face. "And what war?" Prussia continued in a slightly louder voice, as if trying to make him forget her previous tone._

_Matthew's face felt like it was on fire. He had almost forgotten what he came here for. "Y-you temporarily blinded me with your awesomeness," He lied, knowing infinite ridicule from her would be in his future if he went with the first answer that went through his head (**'Because you are beautiful'**). "A-and Francis plans to go to war with the German states of the North German Confederation led by your kingdom."_

"_He is?" She exclaimed, quickly removing her hand from his chin and getting off her bed. "I must inform Chancellor Bismarck of this!" Julchen announced, slipping on her white boots and black-buttoned blue coat before grabbing her sword and heading out the door._

_Canada followed the albino outside, his heart heavy in a mixture of disappointment and worry for the nation. While he knew she was more than capable of fighting in a war, the blonde was unable to rid the thought of her possibly getting hurt._

"_Are you sure about this, Julchen?" He spoke as he helped her onto her horse, readjusting the saddle to insure she wouldn't fall off in the middle of her ride, a small part of him hoping the Prussian would say no._

"_Positive, Birdie. I need to do this to protect myself and my kingdom." Julchen replied, buttoning up her jacket and tying up the black strings of her boots. "Besides," She smirked, looking back at Canada. "Since when has Francis actually won a war?"_

_Julchen took off on her horse into the darkness without allowing him time to answer, leaving Matthew where he stood, the chill night air caressing his golden tresses, his violet orbs half-lidded in a flurry of confliction._

"_Please be alright."_

* * *

Author's Note: And thus, chapter five is born~! I've been meaning to type this one up for the past couple of days, but I was struck by writer's block, only now fighting against it and posting this chapter up! Huzzah! Sorry if this chapter in particular moves quickly or is confusing, but I wanted to include a lot of things, like Canada repaying Prussia for warning him about (yet another) French revolution from chapter three, or some legit chemistry between the two (even if it's just one-sided).

*The lyrics Prussia was singing were the opening lyrics to the Prussian national anthem ('Ich bin ein Preuße, kennt ihr meine Farben?' or 'I am a Prussian, know ye my colors?'). It was either that or 'I'm Awesome' by Spouse.

*The Franco-Prussian war began on July 19th, 1870, and lasted until May 10th, 1871. It was a conflict between the Second French Empire and the German states of the Northern German Confederation led by the Kingdom of Prussia.

*Chancellor Otto Von Bismarck was the current Prussian leader at the time.

I'll try updating soon with another chapter. Reviews are love, reviews are life.


	6. Happy Birthday

Sorry that this chapter was posted up WAYYY later than intended. I wanted this to be out on July 1st, but Writer's Block is a cruel mistress. This chapter is inspired by both Mika's 'In Any Other World' song and Jim Croce's 'Time in a Bottle' song. Hell, this whole FANFICTION is inspired by those songs!

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, a lot of which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

_**Bold italic font indicates thought.**_

* * *

_~July 1st, 1868~_

_Matthew Williams, Canada, 'Birdie' (as affectionately dubbed by Prussia), was not easily recognized by other countries given his naturally quiet and wallflower-esque disposition. It was hard enough being acknowledged by his own brother, much less the other personifications that made up the world._

_Which is why he was surprised when he was tickled awake, causing him to double over in a fit of laughter before rolling off the bed and landing starfish-style on the floor with a satisfying 'omph'._

_Canada opened his mouth to question who was the culprit behind his abrupt awakening, only to close it considering he heard a familiar hiss-like laugh omit from an equally familiar albino female sitting on top of his bed._

"_Julchen," He sighed, sitting up and retrieving his glasses from his bedside table before standing up. "Was that really necessary?"_

"_Of course it was, Birdie," She smirked as she slipped off his bed and made her way towards his closet, rummaging through various articles of clothing for him to change into. The Prussian personification kept holding up random shirts and pants in front of the bespectacled blonde, stuffing them messily back into the drawers after mumbling 'not awesome enough' under her breath. _

_Eventually, she shoved a pile of clothes she deemed 'awesome enough' into his arms and steered him towards the restroom. "Now go pretty yourself up," She teased, closing the door on the flustered male. The Canadian personification gave a small sigh in response to everything that had happened in the span of five minutes, before he started changing into his clothes. _

_He stepped out a few minutes later, dressed in a white linen shirt with black tie hanging loosely around his neck since he was unable to tie the damn thing, finishing off with a grey mid-length sack coat and black trousers. The blonde fingered the neutral clothing curiously. "I would have thought she'd pick something more colorful," He mumbled under his breath before remembering how white, grey, and black were colors of Julchen's national flag._

"_You ready yet, Birdie?" The aforementioned female yelled upstairs to the male, who quickly headed downstairs to meet up with her. "You look nice," She complimented, fixing his tie properly around his neck only to pull out a blindfold. "Now close your eyes."_

_Matthew felt his cheeks heat up and his stomach knot when wondering what she was planning on doing with the blindfold, eventually complying and closing his eyes. He felt her remove his glasses and wrap the fabric around the top of his face, successfully blinding him for the moment. "Jeez, I know you're part French but come on, Birdie; what did you think I was going to do?" She 'keseses'd, admiring how his cheeks somehow burned brighter. "Now ONWARD~!" The albino cheered, opening the door and steering her blonde companion outside._

"_Where are we going?" He interrogated, hoping that Julchen wouldn't make him hit a wall or something, resisting the temptation to extend his hands in front of him out of fear of what he might touch. _

"_Somewhere," Julchen answered, making Matthew groan at her obvious answer. "Trust me, you'll like it."_

"_If it's a whore house again, I swear to God I'll-" He began, stopping when Julchen abruptly ripped off the blindfold, leaving him to gaze at the sight of a red and white-striped blanket resting beneath a maple tree, complete with a wicker basket and a cake._

"_Happy Birthday, Birdie." Prussia grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now what was that you were saying about if it was a whore house again?"_

_Matthew quickly shook his head, a light blush adorning his angular cheekbones. "N-nothing, Julchen," He expressed, wondering how he could have forgotten about his own birthday before getting dragged beneath the tree and sitting down._

_Julchen stuck a candle into his birthday cake (vanilla with a strange frosting concoction Prussia had created using maple syrup, along with red frosting in the shape of a maple leaf), lighting it up and handing it to the blonde. "Bon anniversaire, nos vœux les plus sincères. Que ces quelques fleurs, vous apportent le Bonheur. Que l'année entière vous soit douce et légère. Et que l'an fini, nous soyons tous réunis. Pour chanter en chœur: "Bon Anniversaire!" She attempted/failed to sing in French, mispronouncing the words and eventually giving in and singing the English birthday song._

_Canada was unable to stop smiling given how rarely anyone celebrated his birthday with him, much less put together a picnic dedicated to the event. He was even more surprised that the Prussian had taken the time to memorize the French lyrics (even if she ended up butchering the song and French language as a whole) in order to make things a little more special._

_When she reached the end of her song, the Canadian closed his eyes and blew out the single candle._

_**I wish Julchen and I could always be together like this.**_

_ With their combined efforts, Matthew and Julchen were able to finish off the cake in a single sitting. They spent the rest of the day beneath the tree, talking about anything and everything that came into their minds._

_ That is, until the representation of Canada felt the first drop of water hit his nose._

_ The rest of the rain came in a downpour almost immediately after the initial droplet, causing the albino and the bespectacled blonde to throw everything they brought into Prussia's wicker basket before running into the rain._

_ Matthew couldn't remember when he had grabbed ahold of Julchen's hand. He only remembered when she let go, which was shortly after the two found shelter to take refuge in._

_ "Julchen?" He called out, straining to find the white-haired female in a sea of rain, eventually finding her…dancing? "What are you doing?"_

_ "What does it look like, Birdie? I'm dancing in the rain~!" She laughed, twirling in a mismatched circle with her arms spread out, her knee-long black dress glistening like obsidian amongst the grey of the small storm, feathering out from her form as the wind swept around her, carrying her strange laugh on the wind as well._

_ The Canadian felt like his cheeks would hurt really badly at the end of the day, because he smiled again. Shortly after setting down the basket on the ground, he rushed out to meet up with her, only stopping to splash around in a few puddles._

_ He stopped in front of the albino (whose hair now resembled a light shade of silver), bowing lightly and extending his hand towards the female. "May I?" He asked, his glasses askew on his face, his blonde hair (temporarily dark brown) slightly sticking to his cheeks._

_ Julchen took a moment to giggle given how cliché the situation seemed, putting one hand on her chest melodramatically and slipping the other hand in Matthew's. "Why good sir, I thought you'd never ask."_

_ Canada slipped an arm around Prussia's waist and intertwined his fingers with hers, leading her in a box-step waltz with the occasional twirl and dip, all the while dancing to the sound of a piano playing nearby._

_ They continued like this for a while, at some points the blonde/brunette leading, at other points the albino/silverette leading. Eventually, they both became so tired that they just ended up dancing much closer than deemed appropriate by society's standards, Julchen's head resting against Matthew's drenched chest, Matthew's cheek resting on the top of Julchen's soaked head._

_ "Thank you for today, Julchen." He spoke in his usual whispery tone, but just loud enough for her to hear over the sound of the rain hitting the cobblestone._

_ "It's no problem, Birdie." She mumbled exhaustedly, smiling a miniscule amount as opposed to her usual smirk. "Happy Birthday."_

* * *

Author's Note: So yeah…some more PruCan fluff because why not. Again, sorry for the immense lateness of this chapter, Writer's Block is my Achilles Heel.

*Canada's birthday is July 1st, 1867. This chapter takes place the year after that, making it his first birthday.

*I got the lyrics for the French birthday song off a website. No idea if it's legit or not, if it isn't, I'm sorry. I'd appreciate it if someone could send me the actual lyrics if they are wrong. I personally think Prussia was butchering the lyrics on purpose, since she hangs around France and Canada a lot, undoubtedly picking up the basics of French along the way.

*If anyone's interested, Austria's the one playing the piano in the background. Just 'cuz. Also, if he can somehow move his piano into the ocean and play during the one episode when the Axis' was trapped on the island, surely he can go over to Canada and somehow find the two and play while they dance. Prussia was too tired to notice, otherwise she would have mentioned it. Canada couldn't care less about who was playing it, though.

*The box-step waltz is awesome, and the most basic form of waltz. I learned how to do it over the internet.

*No idea when maple syrup frosting was invented. I'm betting it came from Canada, though.

I'll try updating soon (hopefully sooner than the amount of time it took for me to type this chapter out), reviews are appreciated.


	7. The Awesome Prussia and the Pancakanator

This chapter in particular is inspired by Within Temptation's instrumental version of 'Fire and Ice', as well as Nightwish's 'Last of the Wilds'.

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, a lot of which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

_**Bold italic font indicates thought.**_

* * *

_~August 4th, 1914~_

_ Julchen sighed and placed her hands over her ears to tune out the sound of her younger brother arguing with England, eyeing her Belgian waffles with distaste considering Canadian pancakes were superior over Belgian waffles._

_ She glanced up from the disappointing food, removing her hands from her ears and tossing the plate of waffles into a trash bin when seeing a familiar Canadian personification lingering near the door. "Birdie!" Julchen cheered, engulfing the surprised male in a hug. _

_ "I-it's been a while, Julchen," Matthew stammered, returning the hug and removing his arms from her waist when she pulled back, pointing at the trash bin with a triumphant look in her crimson eyes._

_ "Feel ashamed of yourself, Belgian waffles! Feel ashamed as you are in the presence of both the Awesome Prussia and the Pancakanator!" The Prussian exclaimed with a melodramatic fist pump, the statement causing the Canadian to raise a light eyebrow in confusion._

_ Julchen resumed speaking before he could question the obscure nickname choice. "So what are you doing in Belgium, Birdie?" She questioned, sitting back in her chair and crossing her boots on top of the table._

_ "Arthur brought me along with him, actually, since my government's based in London after all." He explained, sitting down across from her and lightly pushing her boots aside so he could rest his arms on the table. Canada winced when hearing how much louder the arguing had become, downstairs. "He's pretty mad about your brother not removing his forces from Belgium…"_

_ Prussia shrugged. "That's Eyebrows' problem. Why my brother refuses to remove his forces from here is his business. He shouldn't be dragging you around, though," She expressed, pointing at him with the tip of her shoe. "Regardless of where your government is based in."_

_ Matthew went silent, scratching the back of his head out of nervousness. "Julchen," He began, readjusting his glasses so he could look at her better. "Why is your brother getting involved in the Great War like this?"_

_ The albino sighed, removing her feet from the wooden surface separating the two and leaning back in her chair. "Don't tell Eyebrows, but Luddy wants to become a global dominant power." She said, looking out a window near where she sat. "War is an excellent opportunity to claim territories and colonies, a major necessity if one plans to achieve such a goal."_

_ He nodded, following her gaze that lingered on the outside. She was looking at some red poppies that were growing in a garden box hanging on the edge of the window. The flowers seemed to be wilting, though. _

_ "Why are you getting involved in the Great War, Julchen?" He asked, resting his hand on his cheek as he looked back at her._

_ "My reason for fighting isn't as complex as others would think it to be," She snorted, turning to face him. "I only want to protect my brother, and to make him happy." Prussia crossed her arms over her chest, staring him in the eye. "And if he finds happiness in winning the war and accomplishing his goal, I will help him win."_

_ The blonde sighed, lending an ear to the arguing still going on between Ludwig and Arthur. Knowing Arthur, he would end up going against Ludwig just to spite him for refusing to meet his demands. And, knowing Arthur, he would drag Matthew down with him._

_ He stood up and walked over to where Julchen still sat, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I wish you luck with keeping your brother safe."_

_ Julchen opened her mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by the door being practically slammed open by a certain blonde, bushy-browed Briton._

_ "What is it, England?" Matthew wondered out loud towards the personification, realizing how it had been disturbingly quiet for the past few moments due to the apparent end of Germany and England's arguments regarding Belgium._

_ "We're leaving." Arthur spat, imaginary steam blowing out of his ears as he grabbed the timid nation's hand and forced him towards the door. "And I forbade you from seeing her," He motioned towards Julchen with a venomous glare. "Again."_

_ The Canadian managed to send an apologetic look before the door slammed shut thanks to the aforementioned Briton. _

_ Julchen reluctantly stayed put, lest she make a move that would only deepen the island nation's rage._

_**There will be plenty of time to get back at Eyebrows later,**__ She thought with the same amount of distaste earlier directed towards the Belgian waffles, glancing back at the wilting red poppies that grew in the outside window garden box. Her fists clenched, unconsciously__**. I only hope he doesn't force Birdie to participate in the war.**_

"…Little did either of us know of the times soon to come," Matthew sighed, blowing strands of blonde hair in the process as he stared at the cracked grey tombstone riddled with old inscriptions and frost.

"Of the pain soon to come."

* * *

Author's Note: Chapter seven? That's an impressive feat for me, considering most of my fanfictions have a max of three chapters before my brain starts slowing down…

As for this, we're nearing the end of the story, Their Story, my dear readers. What shall occur? What pain is Matthew referring to? Will Canadian pancakes not somehow triumph over Belgian waffles? (*insert gasp of horror and shock here*)

The only way to find out is to continue reading when I update again, perhaps favorite/follow the story and leave a review while at it? I do love feedback, whether positive or constructive.


	8. Reduced

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, a lot of which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

_**Bold italic font indicates thought.**_

* * *

_~June 28th, 1919~_

_Matthew Williams was a man/country of many things, possessing patience, respect, kindness, and most importantly, the ability to stay in his seat for longer than five minutes, unlike his American brother._

_Today was the only exception to the latter statement. Only today, though._

_He was unable to stop squirming in his seat. _

_It was as if his nerves were the nine-month result of Five-Hour Energy, Red Bull, and Monster's three-way/one-night stand. His stomach felt like it was full of flying insects (quite the contrary; Francis insisted that he eat Escargot, otherwise known as snail cuisine), to the point where he was constantly fumbling with his fingers or readjusting his legs. _

_The blonde __just couldn't stay still. _

_The reason for his uneasiness sat on the other side of the conference table in the Hall of Mirrors, her face grave and grey as she stared unblinking at the Treaty of Versailles residing on the shiny wooden surface, particularly where her signature (devoid of its usual flare, which consisted of 'THE AWESOME PRUSSIA, SUCK IT, LOSERS' whenever she wrote her signature) rested beside her brother's name._

_Ludwig sighed and stood up, lightly pushing the Treaty towards Alfred, Arthur, and the rest of the Allies sitting side by side across from the two Germanic countries. "Here is your Treaty. I agree to its terms." He informed briskly, his sky-blue eyes practically devoid of all emotion. _

_It seemed Germany's emotions had somehow transferred to Prussia, on the other hand. _

_The nation's crimson orbs were practically swimming in a sea of regret, guilt, hatred, and a rapid whirlwind of other emotions Matthew was unable to identify. Her long white hair was matted and as grey as the aura surrounding her, her skin clammy and lacking pigment, dark circles beneath her eyelids acting as the only sign of color. _

_She looked like death._

_ The bespectacled blonde felt his heart squeeze like a washcloth when seeing how lifeless she was. How badly the Great War had changed her. _

_**Though,**__ Matthew thought, glancing over at the personification of Russia from the corner of his eye. __**Julchen was under the watch of Ivan for a short amount of time. Perhaps that might have played a role in her sudden change of behavior.**_

_ His fists clenched unconsciously at the thought, making him all the more determined to talk to her when the meeting (which felt like it was taking __forever__) finished. _

_ Shortly before arriving to the meeting in the Palace of Versailles, Matthew had managed to convince Arthur to let him visit Julchen, considering Germany would be a good possible trading partner in the future, making it ideal to be in Germanic favor. The blonde was only hoping that the Briton would maintain his (surprisingly, since they are in France after all) good mood until the end of the meeting._

_ When the meeting finally finished and the countries left the Hall/conference room to converse, Matthew remained until it was just himself and Julchen as the occupants._

_ A silence overtook the two, broken by the sound of Canada's chair lightly scraping the floor as he pushed back from the table. Then slowly, as to not startle her (the male had plenty of expertise in this area, dealing with moose and other assorted animals prone to jumping at sudden movements), he walked over to where Julchen still sat, got down on one knee, and gave her a hug._

_ The albino immediately stiffened at the physical contact, her arms hanging limply at her sides, her head resting against his heart. _

_ Matthew reluctantly pulled back from the hug, his thumb stroking her cheek, a surprised look dwelling on his features when realizing how cold she felt, and how she was making it a game to constantly avert his bespectacled gaze._

_ "Julchen," He began, gently tilting her chin up so he could look at her better. "Why do you not look at me? What happened?"_

_ Her ruby orbs widened when encountering his amethyst ones, tears forming and threatening to spill from her ashen eyelashes. Julchen looked down almost immediately, shaking her head rapidly against his hand still caressing her washed-out cheeks. _

_ "I can't…say." She whispered hoarsely, so quiet that Matthew's ears strained to hear her, his heart threatening to break into pieces at the mere sight of her reduced to this._

_**Not even the death of Old Frtiz shook her up this badly,**__ He reflected, wiping salt-water stains from her angular cheekbones when they fell. _

_ "Julchen, please tell me what happened," The Canadian requested, his hands on her shoulders as he had given up on trying to wipe her seemingly-endless tears. "Please let me help y-"_

_ "STOP!" She screamed, pushing him away and causing her chair to topple over given how fast she stood up. "SPARE ME YOUR CHARITY!"_

_ Matthew's eyes widened, his forearms supporting his form as he lay on his back, staring up at her like a deer caught in headlights. "Julchen-"_

_ "YOU CAN HELP ME BY STAYING AWAY, MATTHEW!" Prussia roared, her fists clenched so tightly they appeared white. "JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME!"_

_ The Canadian personification remained with his back to the floor, entirely speechless as the female nation turned on her heel and stalked away, her white boots clacking with each thunderous step she took, her form vanishing from his line of sight._

_ Not even the feel of salt-water slipping down his face could withdraw him from his trance, her words still echoing about in his mind._

_ "'Just stay away from me'," Was all he was able to say._

* * *

Author's Note: Holy crap, 7 reviews in a day? *dances*

Thanks for all of the positive feedback in regards to this story; it serves as a major inspiration to write. As for eight chapters, I must have stepped into some form of parallel dimension where I actually get stuff done, 'cuz this is the first time I've reached this many chapters!

Ah, the drama is escalating, the end is nigh, my brain is fueled by a mixture of Coca-Cola and insomnia, so many great things are happening~!

My musical muse for this chapter resides with 'The Slightly-Chipped Full Moon' OST from the second season of 'Kuroshitsuji' (which, by the way, CONGRATS ON THE THIRD SEASON 'BOOK OF CIRCUS'!).

Here's some of the historical bits from today's chapter:

*On June 28th, 1919, the Treaty of Versailles was signed in the Hall of Mirrors (no clue if it was an actual hall or what) in the Versailles Palace of Paris, France. It was an agreement particularly between Germany and the Allies, though the other allies of Germany were dealt with separately. As punishment for Germany's actions, he had to disarm, make substantial territorial concessions, and pay reparation costs to certain countries. Though he would repair himself to the point of England possibly considering him a trading partner, which is good.

*For readers in foreign countries, or just readers who don't know what Five-Hour Energy, Red Bull, or Monster, is, the three aforementioned products are drinks consumed by people who are in need of energy stat.

*Around the September of 1914 (when WW1 began), Prussia was temporarily controlled by Russia, this lasting about a month or more.

The next time I have to sign something, I'm putting 'THE AWESOME (*INSERT NAME HERE*), SUCK IT, LOSERS'

Thanks for reading this particular chapter, I'll try updating soon. Leave a favorite/follow or a review if you want, I appreciate feedback.


	9. Madness

This chapter was inspired by 'Madness', an OST from the RPG horror game 'Mad Father'. I highly recommend listening to that whilst reading this.

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, a lot of which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

_**Bold italic font indicates thought.**_

* * *

_~February 1st, 1933~_

_Julchen stepped out of the car, patting down the creases which formed on her black skirt, the crisp, cold wind brushing through her waist-long white hair as if Jack Frost himself was trying to comb through it. She glanced over at Ludwig who emerged from the opposing end of the car, nervousness evident in his expression._

_Her white knee-long boots tapped against the snow-riddled cobblestones, averting light patches of ice as she walked over by her younger brother, taking his black gloved hands into her own and squeezing them gently for reassurance. _

"_No need to be so uptight," She joked lightly, straightening out the lapels of his blackish-green uniform. "Why be nervous around your next chancellor?"_

"_He has so many wonderful things in store for my country," Ludwig admitted, averting his older sibling's gaze out of embarrassment. "I can't help but fear I'll end up making a fool out of myself."_

"_You? Make a fool out of yourself?" Prussia laughed her famous/infamous hiss-like laugh. "The day that happens is the day I admit I'm not awesome. Which is never. Because I'm awesome, West."_

_She grinned when seeing the corners of his lips slightly turn upwards, Germany's equivalent of a smile. The albino female steered him towards the building in which the Ludwig's next Chancellor would take his speech. "Now go inside and save me a seat, 'kay? I want to take a look around."_

"_Alright. Don't be late, East." He informed Prussia when they stepped inside. With a nod from his older sister, the blonde male walked up the staircase residing in the center of the room._

_When the sound of his footsteps subsided, Julchen cast her gaze around the interior of Berlin's capital building. "I rarely get to come here," She murmured to herself, walking down a random corridor and looking at the various portraits of previous German leaders hanging on the walls. "I haven't gotten to visit this place since-"_

"_Before the Great War, I presume?" A voice interrupted, causing the Prussian to nearly jump and scream. She stifled the reaction given her awesome nature, instead turning around. _

"_Yes," She replied, lightly bowing her head in a sign of respect since, based on the man's attire, he was one of her brother's superiors (and the last thing she wanted was to start a second world war). Her crimson line-of-sight returned to the portraits. "I'm relieved to see that Germany is in a better state since then."_

"_Indeed," The man agreed, walking closer as he inspected the pictures as well. "And her prosperity shall only increase as the years go by," He spoke, (the Prussian fighting off the urge to laugh since this man was obviously not aware that Germany was __anything__ but a woman), his blue-grey eyes lingering on the empty spot at the end of the hall, reserved for the portrait of the next German Chancellor. Ludwig's superior looked back at the Prussian personification. "I can assure you that, Ms…?"_

"_Julchen. Julchen Beilschmidt." She answered, offering her gloved hand towards the brunette male. He accepted and placed a kiss on her knuckles. _

"_It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Beildschmidt."_

_A glance to the clock resulted in the albino female politely/awesomely removing her hand and politely/awesomely excusing herself so she could meet with her younger brother._

_She left the brunette superior to himself, still looking at the empty spot amongst the paintings._

"_Sorry I'm late," Prussia apologized to Ludwig as she sat down in the seat beside him. As expected of the blonde nation, he had seats specially reserved for the two of them beside his superiors. They resided on the ledge where the next Chancellor would take his speech, overlooking the crowd of Ludwig's citizens. _

_Germany looked at her as if she had sprouted a second head. "You're actually early for once, East," He acknowledged, resulting in his sister fist-pumping the air._

"_Typical of the awesome me," She smirked, resting her back against her chair. "By the way, you should know that some of your superiors still refer to you as a 'she'. Perhaps you could pitch in the thought of people thinking of Germany as a man?"_

_Ludwig only rolled his eyes in slight irritation. _

_The two of them ceased their talking when a German official stood up to the podium. "Citizens of Germany," He began, his voice booming through the microphone and around Berlin. "I present to you, Chancellor Adolf Hitler."_

_The official stepped away and retreated to his seat, allowing the new leader to begin his speech._

_Julchen's eyes nearly popped out of her skull when realizing the next Chancellor was the man she had spoken to, before._

"_More than fourteen years have passed since the unhappy day when the German people, blinded by promises from foes at home and abroad, lost touch with honor and freedom, thereby losing all." He began, the entire capital silent when hearing his words. _

"_Since that day of treachery, the Almighty has withheld his blessing from our people. Dissension and hatred descended upon us. With profound distress millions of the best German men and women from all walks of life have seen the unity of the nation vanishing away, dissolving in a confusion of political and personal opinions, economic interests, and ideological differences. Since that day, as so often in the past, Germany has presented a picture of heartbreaking disunity. We never received the equality and fraternity we had been promised, and we lost our liberty to boot. For when our nation lost its political place in the world, it soon lost its unity of spirit and will..."_

_And he continued from there, summarizing the horrendous effects the Great War had on Ludwig and his people, how it still had effects on his people, and spoke of how he intended to change it. How he intended to bring up Germany from the depths of its despair and finally transform her (once more Prussia struggled with not laughing) into a world power, the ultimate world power._

_**Just like Luddy's always wanted, **__Julchen thought, glancing over at her brother. _

_She was surprised to see a genuine smile residing on his face for the first time in what seemed like eternity._

_**If he can make Luddy smile like that, then I support him.**__ She decided, crossing her arms over her chest, a genuine smile of her own residing on her face at the thought._

"_-Now, people of Germany, give us four years and then pass judgment upon us. In accordance with Field Marshal von Hindenburg's command we shall begin now. May God Almighty give our work His blessing, strengthen our purpose, and endow us with wisdom and the trust of our people, for we are fighting not for ourselves but for Germany." He finished, the German officials surrounding Julchen giving the Chancellor standing ovations, Ludwig included. _

_The crowd erupted into applause and cheered at the sound of their bright future, some going as far as to raise their right arms and shout 'Heil Hitler!'. _

_Julchen couldn't help but smile given how happy her brother appeared, especially considering how depressed he was in the aftermath of the Great War._

_**And his prosperity shall only increase as the years go by, indeed.**_

* * *

Author's Note: Chapter nine, huh? Yeah, I'm definitely in a parallel dimension where I actually accomplish things…this chapter, tho. Sorry if it wasn't historically accurate, I tried my best to picture what might have happened before, during, and after the speech. I also tried to make Hitler's personality as accurate as possible. In this case, polite with a hint of creepiness/inner insanity.

*Hitler was supposedly 5'8 or 5'9, somewhere around that range, with brown hair and blue-grey eyes (and a hilarious-as-hell mustache that looks like Dirty Sanchez on his lip). I didn't include the 'stache because that would give it away almost immediately, though Julchen probably went out of her way to avoid staring at it (a feat difficult for us all).

*On February 1st, 1933, Adolf Hitler delivered his infamous 'Proclamation for the German Nation' speech as a part of his Chancellor acceptance ceremony.

*People who were apart of the Nazi party did the right-hand salute and 'Heil Hitler' thing. German citizens were required to do such things later in Hitler's reign.

*Hitler would later be informed of the fact that the personification of Germany is anything but a woman. There was much embarrassment. And Julchen laughed her ass off about it, later.

Thanks for reading this chapter, I'll try updating soon. Leave a favorite, follow, or a review if you want to. Feedback is much appreciated.


	10. Red Ink

This chapter was particularly difficult to write. I won't further elaborate. However, thanks to the soundtrack from the anime 'Shiki', I was able to type it out.

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, a lot of which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

_**Bold italic font indicates thought.**_

* * *

_~September 9th, 1939~_

_ Matthew knew he shouldn't have been doing this. _

_Every fiber of his being was screaming for him to turn around and to return to Arthur's temporary military base in France before someone caught him, or something worse happened. _

_The chill night air nipped at his cheeks and nose, lightly blowing his golden curls behind his form, the moonlight illuminating in his glasses as the grass crunched softly beneath his feet with every step he took._

_He glanced behind him, his violet orbs wide with uncertainty and fear given the circumstances spreading about in Europe. Given the horrendous events that had occurred as of late._

_**Evil has been spreading throughout Europe like red ink on a white surface,**__ He thought, turning back and resuming his walk._

_He hadn't spoken to Julchen since the Treaty of Versailles, his excuse being a combination of his busy schedule and his own cowardice. While he knew Julchen's war history was as bloody-red as her eyes, he assumed she had calmed down over the centuries and settled into a tamer lifestyle, devoid of swordfights and conquest. _

_But that day in the Palace, that day in which she snapped and screamed at him with tears streaming down her face…he had seen a miniscule glimpse of her former self. From the resonating power of her voice, to her eyes that beheld more death and burden than he had ever known, she had petrified him to the core._

_ It wasn't as if he hadn't tried to contact her, though. _

_ Matthew lost count of the numerous letters he sent to her over the years, the amount of times he tried calling her and she didn't answer. And while Matthew was not one to jump to conclusions, he thought she was purposefully ignoring him after years of sending letters and calls her way. _

_ So why did she only now request they meet? _

_ 'Meet me in Belgium on September 9th. Burn this letter immediately after reading and don't tell anyone about it.'_

_ He followed her instructions and spoke to no one of this rendezvous. And, while he had received the letter a few weeks prior to this day, he couldn't help but wish it would be held any time but now. _

_ "Birdie."_

_ Matthew didn't realize he had stopped walking until he heard that voice call out his nickname. Until he looked up and saw her standing a good distance away from him, her hair blowing in the wind and shimmering as brightly as the crescent moon hanging in the sky, her eyes half-lidded and as crimson as the red poppies growing in the grass around her._

_ Regardless of circumstance, she never failed to steal his breath away while basking in the darkness, yet omitting her own unique light._

_ "Julchen." He breathed, his whispery voice carrying on the evening breeze and reaching her ears. _

_ She smiled, and the world around him seemed to dull in comparison. "Sorry for the short notice, Birdie." Julchen began, stepping a bit closer. "And for the vague letter. I didn't want to reveal too much in case it was intercepted by opposing forces."_

_ He nodded, his chest tightening due to the many things he craved to speak aloud, but was unable to phrase coherently into words. "Julchen…why did you want to talk to me, now?"_

_ Her smile faltered, her gloved hands stiffening at the sides of her dark blue jacket, her gaze conflicted as ruby peered into amethyst. _

_ It must have been a trick of the light, for it seemed as though her inner spark, always present amongst her features and aura in general, was wearing out. As if it was a candle and someone was lightly blowing against it, threatening to snuff it out of existence._

_ "Things have been complicated, as of late." She admitted, averting his bespectacled orbs and directing her attention to the growing poppies. "The Great War hurt my brother and disabled him. I had to tend to his wounds while taking care of my own," The Prussian mumbled, her touch lingering on her left cheek where her scar resided. Before, the scar was only an inch long at most, but now it seemed to reach from the side of her ear to a little below her eye._

_ "Then your brother's economy fell, and all Europe suffered. Times became tougher for everyone. I'd look into my streets and see breadlines going as far as I could see. Men resorting to petty crimes to barely scrape by, women selling themselves on every street corner, children having more bones than meat on them." Julchen informed, forcing herself to stop when she realized she was ranting._

_ She held her head low, her fists tightly clenching. "I'm sorry. I couldn't respond to you because of my problems." Prussia finished, her eyes closed as Canada continued to stare at her. _

_ It was so hard for him to believe that this was the same person who used to constantly barge in on him and demand pancakes. Who would constantly proclaim her awesomeness before tripping and land starfish-style on the ground. Who always laughed her strange, hiss-like laugh and smirked like a Cheshire Cat._

_ Matthew reached out and touched the top of her head, gently ruffling her hair. "It's alright. We've all struggled these recent years," He reminded the albino._

_ Once more, the world seemed to dull in comparison to her radiant smile that graced her angular cheekbones._

_ "Though West has been getting better. Much better than before," Julchen spoke, lifting her head up when he retracted his hand, her smile returning. "All thanks to Adolf."_

_ A silence overtook the two nations, the only sound omitting from the red poppies as they swayed and rustled against each other. _

_ Julchen's happy expression faded again when seeing how pale Matthew became._

_ "…'Because of Adolf'?" He repeated, his face devoid of all color at the mere mention of the name._

_Of the blood-red ink._

_ "Of course," The Prussian confirmed, her arms crossed over her chest. "He's been a miracle worker for Ludwig and his people."_

_ "'And his people?'" The Canadian questioned, his expression unreadable in the Prussian's mind as she nodded._

_ While Matthew had been out of personal contact with Julchen for many years, that did not mean he was oblivious to the atrocities occurring in Germany._

_ At first, the situations appeared microscopic and unrelated. A few attacks against the Jewish people here and there, a few questionable acts and laws placed into effect every now and then, a few droplets of red ink onto a white surface._

_ But the droplets kept on coming, until the surface was stained completely, wretchedly, and beautifully red._

_ As red as Julchen's eyes._

_ "Julchen," He started, he now being the one to not look at her, his gold tresses covering his eyes and glasses, his hands turning to fists. "Why did you __really__ call me out here?"_

_ If the Canadian personification was looking at the Prussian personification, he would have noticed that her inner and outer spark was then snuffed out like a candle. _

_ The albino remained silent, only bending down to pick a few of the red poppies, standing back up with the flowers held between her gloved hands. _

_ "Do you remember what I said, last time we were in this country together?" She wondered out loud towards the blonde, who saw no need to answer given he remembered._

_ "I said how I only want to protect my brother, and to make him happy." Julchen reminded as Matthew faced her, the September evening air seemingly chipping away at his heart considering she wore her usual, cocky smirk. "And if he finds happiness in winning the war and accomplishing his goal, I will help him win." _

_ Prussia extended the poppies towards Canada._

_ "Join me in this war, Birdie. Arthur forced you to join the Great War, and I don't want to possibly fight against you again. We can fight together and win. We can have everything be as it used to, and much more."_

_ The blonde glanced to her familiar grin he loved to see, to her eyes which lacked its flair he loved all the more, and to the flowers she held out for him. _

_Matthew slowly extended his hand out towards the plants, his fingers just barely grazing the petals before he stopped._

'_**I wish Julchen and I could always be together like this.'**_

_It was at that moment, he recalled his wish from his birthday many years ago. A wish for more memories and smiles, of pancakes and awesomeness. A wish to always be by Julchen's side._

_ And now she was offering him the opportunity to make that wish come true. _

_ …But at what cost?_

_ "I can't." Matthew whispered, lowering his hand. "I can't fight with you. We can't have everything as it used to be. We can't always be together." He expressed, repressing the sobs threatening to wrack his body as he stood up straight, his fingernails piercing through the palms of his hand from how much he was clenching them into fists. _

"_I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I said yes, Julchen. Think of all that Hitler has done to Europe, to Ludwig, to you!" He exclaimed, motioning to their surroundings. Considering Germany was Belgium's neighbor, all the windows of houses and buildings were boarded up with wood to show Belgium's firm neutrality towards the beginning war. "If it wasn't for Hitler going about and spreading his poisons, these people wouldn't have to be afraid!"_

"_You're wrong! Hitler has done many wonderful things for Ludwig!" Julchen declared, the moon in the sky being distilled by black clouds, her blue jacket and white hair blowing in the steadily-increasing breeze. "He's brought him out of depression, brought new technologies and military advancements to him, and has united his people when Ludwig thought he would dissolve as a nation!"_

"_But what of the Jewish people? Of the beggars, the homeless, the racially-diverse, the homosexuals?" Matthew pointed out, his eyes narrowing in anger at the thought of Julchen rallying with the man who had brought persecution and prejudice to innocent people in a few short years of leadership. "Tell me, what is the purpose is of his concentration camps? What does he hope to achieve by condemning Ludwig's people there? __Condemning your people there?__"_

"_He hopes to achieve peace!" Prussia debated, her clenched fists shaking at her sides, her feet planted firmly on the ground in a battle-stance. _

"'_Peace'?" The Canadian couldn't help but laugh. "He hopes to achieve peace by ostracizing and murdering people who can't help who they are? The man is a hypocrite, yet you defend his honor?"_

"_Because he's done what I've been unable to do! He's brought Ludwig out of his misery for once in his life, and made him hope for the future!" The albino nation argued, her whole body shaking with rage. Her spark had returned, yet had ignited into something entirely different: wrath._

"_A bleak future of suffering and death? Of discrimination and anarchy? That's the future you want for your brother?!" Canada acknoweldged, his usual whispery tone long gone._

"_Dammit, Matthew, I'm a nation, not a child! Just leave me alone for once in your life, will you?!" She yelled in response, stomping closer to him. The dark clouds above kept encircling, the wind roaring in their ears._

"_I can't leave you alone because you tend to make stupid choices on who to follow or what to believe in!" He ranted, rooted firmly in where he stood amongst the flowers, not moving an inch regardless of how fast the Prussian was approaching him._

_A thunderous 'SMACK' erupted between the two, given she just slapped him across the face._

"_Just when I think I have you all figured out, Matthew, you go off and pull something that makes me reconsider you as a whole." She murmured, removing her hand and crushing the poppies still held in her other hand, the petals slipping through her fingers like droplets of blood._

"_The feeling is mutual, Julchen." He spat, turning on his heel and walking away. Away from the poppies, away from the days filled with sunshine and pancakes, away from her._

_The sound of his heart beating sounded louder in his ears than ever before._

_Matthew Williams had reached the boundaries of Belgium, not far from where his rendezvous with Julchen had taken place, when he heard it:_

"_I HATE YOU!" _

_Matthew didn't look back. _

_He was oblivious to the fact that the next time they'd see each other, Julchen Beilschmidt would be wearing a white dress, and resting in a box of blue cornflowers._

* * *

Author's Note: …Yeah. That chapter was, by far, the most difficult one for me to write. My sincerest apologies to those somehow affected by the Second World War and the Holocaust.

*France and Great Britain officially entered WW2 after Germany's refusal to remove forces from Poland. This occurred on September 3rd, 1939. Canada entered the war as a member of the Allies on September 10th, 1939.

*Belgium went out of its way to remain neutral in the war, but that became difficult especially during the 40s when German troops invaded.

*Poppies are the national flower of Belgium and symbolize peace as well as death (I think, please correct me if I'm wrong) and are used to remember fallen soldiers, not to mention they were the flowers Julchen was looking at in the chapter about Belgian waffles. Cornflowers are the national flower of Germany, and (I believe) of former Prussia, and symbolizes prosperity and friendship.

Thanks for reading, leave a favorite or a follow if you liked it, reviews are appreciated.


	11. We're All Stained in Blood

Author's Note before we begin: I highly recommend listening to Davy Jones' theme from 'Pirates of the Caribbean', but only the music box version. Just the music box version.

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, a lot of which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

_**Bold italic font indicates thought.**_

* * *

_~February 28th, 1947~_

_Matthew absentmindedly readjusted his red scarf around his neck to prevent the cold February air from seeping into his skin, keeping a firm grip on the flower held between his gloved fingertips, the freshwater turning to icicles on the light green stem due to the steadily decreasing temperature to rival even that of Canada's winter weather. _

_ He removed his glasses and wiped them using the hem of his winter jacket to clear the lenses of fog. Canada put his glasses back on, glancing up at the snowflakes fluttering down from the grey sky. A soft sigh escaped in a puff of smoke in front of his face as he made his way towards a small white church bathed in snow._

_ The blonde stepped inside the church, his violet orbs glinting like amethysts amongst the candles lit in the foyer. A moment of listening to an organ playing a familiar march resulted in Canada heading to the hall with haste, realizing the event had already started._

_Considering the Second World War was still fresh in the memories of the world's personifications, Ludwig, Feliciano, Elizabeta, and Roderich were the only countries present, aside from Matthew (Kiku was unable to attend, given he was still recovering from the bombs of Hiroshima and Nagasaki). Even then, Matthew was thankful for his powers of invisibility, given they probably wouldn't have welcomed him to the service knowing he was related to America, England, and France, three of the four countries involved in the Allied Control Council._

_**Alfred, Arthur, and Francis didn't even bother to pay their respects,**_ _The Canadian personification thought bitterly, his grip on the flower tightening in the process. __**Even though they caused this to happen.**_

_The last thing he remembered was seeing a priest walk to the altar, a solemn look beheld on his features as he sprinkled the coffin with holy water and incense. After the priest gave his requiem, the funeral went by in a blur, or at least it seemed for Matthew. He remembered Elizabeta stepping up to the altar to present her piece regarding the deceased shortly after the priest finished, followed by Roderich. Feliciano tried to give a eulogy but broke into tears before he could finish, eventually being escorted off the podium by Ludwig, who appeared to be repressing the urge to cry as well._

_ When the eulogies had finished, the coffin was opened by the priest to allow the mourners a final look at the corpse before the burial._

_ It was when the German personification caught sight of his older sister in the casket, that he finally broke into a fit of silent tears. After a moment of furiously wiping at his eyes to get rid of the saltwater, he placed a lily beside her and walked stiffly towards his seat. _

_ The remaining countries walked up to the coffin, each bearing their own flowers to place. Only after the others went forth and paid their respects in the form of plants, did Matthew go up and do the same._

_ Time seemed to slow down for the Canadian, as he made his way towards the box. The coffin was made of ebony, with a Prussian eagle and a familiar phrase engraved in the center:_

_ 'Ich bin ein Preuße, kennt ihr meine Farben?'_

_ His heart plummeted to a stop when seeing the corpse of the former nation resting in a box of blue cornflowers._

_ Her hair, usually tangled and covered in leaves, was properly brushed and groomed, with silk-like strands draped over her shoulders and chest. _

_Her eyes, crimson and always brimming with life, closed, most likely dull like the eyes of a porcelain doll. _

_Her clothes, normally consisting of dark neutral colors and blue, were replaced with a plain white dress. The only things somewhat colorful about her were the flowers she was surrounded by, and the Prussian flag beneath her head like a pillow._

_Just the sight of her, so lifeless and devoid of any color, made him feel sick to his stomach. _

"_Hello, Julchen," Matthew began, tenderly brushing a strand of snow-white hair behind her ear, already feeling tears begin to form. "It's Birdie."_

_ He ignored the eyes peering into his back, and resumed speaking to her in a tone much quieter than his usual whisper. _

_ "Since I figured you would have more than enough blue cornflowers," He expressed, motioning to the many flowers surrounding her form. "I brought something else instead."_

_ Matthew placed the red poppy he brought behind her ear, a pained smile residing amongst his features at the sight of the plant. "Awesome."_

_ With that, Matthew returned to his seat._

_ A few ministrants, dressed in robes of purple and black, came along and picked the coffin up and went outside, the priest and mourners following behind._

_ Matthew trudged far behind the others, the nipping sensation of snow and frost lost upon the Canadian. All he could see was the black box raised above the heads of everyone else, snowflakes already covering the Prussian eagle and inscription on the ebony cover._

_ Never in his life did Matthew truly understand the feeling of helplessness, than when he saw Julchen's coffin lowered into the ground. _

_**I'm sorry.**_

_He stared at it, unblinking in horror, as the ministrants began shoveling dirt onto the box. _

_**I'm so sorry.**_

_He remained behind, even as the others retreated back inside the church, still staring._

_**If I had known this was going to happen-**_

_The Canadian personification didn't realize he had fallen onto his knees until he felt the cold snow envelop his legs, until he felt himself hugging the fresh tombstone, wracked sobs omitting from his form as he tried to comprehend the fact that…that…_

_** I would have done something else.**_

_He didn't even realize he was no longer alone until he felt a familiar bomber jacket slip around his shoulders. He continued to sob, tuning out the sound of footsteps coming closer._

_ "Matt..." Alfred began, his gloved hands in his pockets, his bespectacled gaze averting the sight of his Northern brother. "Please try to understand what Arthur, Francis, Ivan, and I did."_

"_What is there to understand, Alfred?" Matthew muttered, letting go of the tombstone and facing his sibling, his face feeling warm from the tears yet cold from the icicles that now froze them._

_The American personification frowned. "We had no choice. She was corrupted by Hitler and the Nazis. She was evil. We just couldn't let her go when she could have possibly tried again-"_

_Alfred's sentence was cut off by Matthew grabbing the cuff of his sweater and shoving him to the ground, his expression brimming with anger and hatred, the bomber jacket long discarded on the snow. _

"_Shut the hell up, Alfred! I'm sick to death of your 'good versus evil' crap! Because of your stupid hero complex, Julchen's dead, and __she's never coming back__!" He shouted, ignoring how quiet America became at his outburst. _

_A grim silence overtook the two, aquamarine encountering amethyst, their breaths mingling in puffs of smoke. Matthew broke the silence when he let go of his brother's attire, his head lowering until his gold tresses obscured his vision, the snow still fluttering from the February sky._

"_All she wanted," He whispered, covering his face with shaking hands. "Was to make her brother happy. That's all she really wanted. She wasn't a monster."_

_America continued to gaze at his brother in a mixture of pity and empathy. He reached out and touched Canada's shoulder in a comforting mannerism. "It's okay, bro. We're countries. The sooner you understand that we're all stained in blood, the better off you'll be."_

_The Southern brother was caught off-guard when he was hugged by the Northern, his face buried in his chest as he continued to cry. Alfred wore an expression of guilt and regret at what he had reverted his sibling to._

_**We're all stained in blood, **__Alfred thought, stroking through Matthew's hair to bring reassurance, glancing up at the fresh tombstone with half-lidded eyes._ _**Always have been, always will.**_

"…As much as it pains me to admit it, he was right." Matthew spoke, sitting in the same spot he was back then, his hands on his knees, his head lowered in respect and sorrow. "As long as we live, there will always be death. That applies to anything."

He took a deep breath, savoring the scent of water-brushed plants and the faint smell of alpenfee roses covering Julchen's stone.

"You should know that your greatest fears won't come true, Julchen." He said, smiling a bittersweet smile. "Although you were loud and boisterous, arrogant and capricious, you were afraid. You were afraid of being alone, of being forgotten, of becoming what your stereotype depicted you as until it was no longer a stereotype, but who you truly were."

He could feel his throat starting to give out, his vision becoming blurry with saltwater threatening to spill, but he continued. He needed to get this out into the open. Not for his sake, but for hers.

"So you hid behind a mask, a façade, a lie to establish upon yourself. If you went about declaring how awesome you were, you hoped that people would remember you, even if they remembered you in a negative way. You hoped you would start believing it, yourself."

"Yet, while you were brilliant, Julchen, you always had a tendency to make things seem more complicated than they actually were. You didn't even realize that I realized all of this about you. There were times when your mask cracked,"

_**You asked why I wouldn't look at you, even though I went out of my way to warn you about a war.**_

"When I got a glimpse of what you used to be,"

_**After World War One, in the Palace of Versailles, you shouted at me to stay away.**_

"When I saw how you really felt."

_**Old Frtiz died, and you came to my door in tears.**_

"There were times when you scared me,"

"_Though West has been getting better. Much better than before. All thanks to Adolf."_

"Times when you worried me,"

"_Join me in this war, Birdie. Arthur forced you to join the Great War, and I don't want to possibly fight against you again. We can fight together and win. We can have everything be as it used to, and much more."_

"…And times when you broke my heart."

"_I HATE YOU!"_

"And I probably did the same to you." Matthew murmured beneath his breath, stroking the tombstone inscriptions, riddled away by frost and time:

Here lies Julchen Beilschmidt.

"What is the good of experience if you do not reflect?" –Frederick the Great

"And I'm sorry."

The Canadian personification stood up from where he sat, brushing remnants of snow from his pants and heading the way he came. With a glance back at Julchen's grave, Matthew Williams left the burial grounds, the wind brushing against the trees in a way that sounded like a familiar hiss-like laugh.

* * *

Author's Note: You wouldn't believe how long it took me to type this out. Seriously.

*On February 25th, 1947, Prussia officially ceased to exist, as one of the many punishments given from the Allied Control Council (a group mainly made of America, England, France, and Russia) after WW2. They believed Prussia to be the core of Germany's evildoings, along with many other reasons, resulting in their decision.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll try to update soon. Follows, favorites, and reviews are much appreciated, for I love constructive criticism.


	12. Their Story: Epilogue

Author's Note before we begin: This is it. The final installment of 'Their Story'. Thank you, all of my past, present, and future readers for going on this beautifully-feelsy journey with me, and for sticking with it for as long as you have, had, and will. A special thanks to Jim Croce, whose song 'Time in a Bottle' inspired this fanfiction. I highly recommend listening to that song while reading this last chapter.

Sorry if this particular chapter is confusing, depressing, or just terribly written. I've spent several months typing this epilogue out, so I hope you find it enjoyable.

Other than that? Thanks for reading, and stay awesome.

Regular font indicates the present, particularly through Matthew's perspective.

_Italic font indicates flashbacking, which may/may not be in Matthew's perspective._

_**Bold italic font indicates writing. Only in this chapter, though.**_

* * *

Matthew ignored the frost tickling his face as he walked through the streets of East Berlin, hopping over grey snow slushes that crowded the sidewalk edges, his glasses tinted with various shades of red and orange thanks to the setting sun.

The Canadian personification reached the hotel he always stayed on the anniversary of Prussia's dissolution, his line of sight glazing over the engraved sign on the building, the writing hardly legible after years of wear-and-tear.

Thinking of how time had influenced the state of the building, he thought of his ancient Prussian estate he owned for the purpose of visiting Julchen. He assumed the place was decrepit and in desperate need of repair, for the estate hadn't been used since World War One.

He pushed past the revolving doors and lightly stomped his boots against the welcome mat to get rid of any lingering snow, his violet orbs glancing around out of mundane routine, stopping when recognizing another nation in the lobby.

It was the personification of Germany, Ludwig Beilschmidt.

The country caught sight of Canada and approached him, the latter feeling a wave of uneasiness overcome his senses given how rare it was to be recognized by a fellow nation, and by Ludwig of all people. Aside from a few meetings revolving around international affairs, the two of them had never conversed, or at least conversed one-on-one.

An awkward silence overhung the blondes, eventually broken when Matthew asked Ludwig why he wished to visit him.

"It's about…East," Germany admitted, his gaze automatically softening at the mention of his deceased sibling, the bringing up of Julchen immediately catching Matthew's words in his throat. "You know how she had a vast collection of diaries describing her life?"

"Her awesome diaries?" Canada questioned, his stomach repeatedly twisting into knots as he wondered where this conversation was going.

"Ja," Ludwig nodded, carefully removing a battered journal from a bag slung over his shoulder, catching Matthew off-guard when he gave it to him. "Since her dissolution, I've collected all of her diaries in attempt to preserve her memory." He paused there, his face pale and weary given the sensitive topic at hand. "I figured you would want to have this one."

Before Matthew could say anything in response, to ask why this journal in particular, Ludwig cut him off. "Though I have one request," He informed, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "Do not read it until you return to your home country. Not at the airport or on the flight, but only when you've arrived from where you came."

Canada nodded, his gaze befalling onto the leather-bound artifact held between his gloved fingers. His mind was unable to wrap around the fact that Julchen's warm touch had lingered on the battered cover as his did now, and covered the blue-lined pages with her innermost thoughts at some point in the past.

Regardless of the strange request, he nodded once again. "I promise. Thank you."

Germany gave a small nod of approval towards the nation, shortly leaving the lobby with silence in his wake.

Matthew glanced back down at the book, his stomach tightening once again at the sight of it, eventually heading to his hotel room to get ready for his flight home the next day.

While Canada was a calm and collected man, his pool of patience was steadily decreasing with each second that seemed as long as an hour on his God-forsaken flight.

He was constantly looking up at the clock in a futile attempt to move the hands with his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists until he feared his palms would bleed.

The reason for his behavior resided in the journal he was given. His mind was unable to stop wondering what resided in the book. Why would Germany go out of his way to give him a piece of Julchen's history if he was deliberately collecting them? And why the particular diary out of her numerous others?

The blonde rushed to a taxi as soon as he got off his plane and went through the various security measures. He put aside his luggage and stepped into the taxi, breathless and pink in the face from the snow falling heavily from the sky.

After giving the driver his address, he sat back in his seat and exhaled a nervous breath, his mind racing at a million miles an hour, unable to stop his hands from shaking.

Matthew ignored the sound of his bear (Kumakitchi? Kumatisa?) asking his usual round of 'who are you' when he arrived home, instead sitting down on the edge of his red and white-themed bed, his blood rushing in his ears as he skimmed his fingertips against the cover of the book. One of Julchen's many diaries pertaining to her existence.

He opened the book.

The first page of the journal was empty. Unusual, considering the first page was commonly used for introducing the reader to who the author was.

His heart twitched within his ribcage when realizing the only evidence to show who the author was, took the form of a familiar black-cross necklace resting against the pages.

The blonde tentatively picked up the cross and turned it over between his fingers, the cold metal bringing back waves of nostalgia for the nation.

Now that he recalled, Julchen hadn't been wearing the necklace on the day of her funeral, meaning that either someone took it off her before the event, or Julchen took it off and put it inside the book by her own hand.

"Why would she do that?" He thought aloud, glancing at the artifact held in the palm of his hand, the dark paint shimmering just as brightly as it did all those years ago. "She wore it all the time and would never part with it! Even Germany had one, but he gave it to Italy-"

Canada's train of thought derailed there, his violet eyes growing wide behind his glasses as he slowly looked down and stared at the cross.

After a moment, he broke out of his trance with a shake of his head. "Am I really as arrogant to assume she gave it to me on purpose as a sign of affection? While we were close, I doubt she thought of me as that close…"

He turned back to look at the first journal page, blank as a slate save for the indent the necklace had left, being pressed between the papers for so long and all.

"Regardless, giving someone a memento is one thing, but giving someone a diary is an entirely different field. Should I violate her privacy like this?" The Canadian questioned himself, mentally torn given the circumstance. A part of him was dying to know what went on inside Julchen's head that made Ludwig so determined to give the journal to him, but his conscience was reluctant. If she was alive, would she have wanted him to read it anyway?

_"YOU CAN HELP ME BY STAYING AWAY, MATTHEW!"_

_ "Dammit, Matthew, I'm a nation, not a child! Just leave me alone for once in your life, will you?!"_

_ "I HATE YOU!"_

The remembrance of her words never failed to send goose bumps up his skin.

Matthew had tried to remove her grasp on his heart. He had tried to for years. But every time he tried to forget about her, tried to let her go, there was always that guilty feeling in the back of his mind.

In her entire lifetime, Julchen went out of her way to ensure people remembered her, even going as far as to seem as the most arrogant and self-centered person in the universe!

If he forgot about her, wouldn't that make him just as bad as those who constantly forgot him?

There was also the fact that…bizarrely, he found himself not wanting to let go of her just yet.

Whenever Matthew thought of that, he found himself at a crossroad, not to mention a weird, warm feeling would always erupt in his chest.

Did he not want to forget her because she didn't forget him? Because he'd be nagged by lingering guilt if he did, since she wanted nothing more than to be remembered? Because, in spite of how badly she hurt him (and how badly he probably hurt her), he still cared?

Then why did his care for her seem to extend far beyond the reaches of friendship?

A soft sigh escaped from his lips, for once wishing he was as skilled with detecting feelings of the heart as his father, Francis.

"…I still deserve to know," He decided, his grip on the cross tightening ever so slightly. He gently took the book in his hands, hating how selfish he probably sounded. "After all these years, I want to know."

So, with a turn of the page, he began to read.

_**November 13**__**th**__**, 1710**_

_**The Great Prussia's Diary**_

_**I was so awesome, today! Luddy and I arrived in Canada to check in on German immigrants after their time spent fighting with Eyebrows' army against Francy-Pants. The place is HUGE, and practically COVERED in snow! I bet I could replicate all of my awesome Prussian castles using only the snow covering the ship docks! **_

_**We met Canada in the flesh, too. Well, **__**I**__** met him. Luddy had a hard time seeing him until I pointed him out. The kid's pretty damn quiet, that's for sure. Though his hair looks soft and downy, like baby bird feathers, plus he's got this wicked curl that just dangles from his head. I tried touching it but he turned bright red and started stuttering like Luddy when I question his 'books'. Heh. **_

_**Anyway, we're staying at his house at the moment. Aside from the tundra-y weather, this place is really awesome (not as awesome as me, of course). Though I nearly screamed when seeing this hulking mass of white fur trying to eat Canada's sofa cushions, though the kid treated it like it was normal! What the hell!? In Prussia, if you see something like that hanging around in your house, you put it six feet underground instead of in the kitchen, like blondie did. **_

_**Apparently it's his pet polar bear, Kumajiro. Though he can't remember the thing's name for shit, though the feeling is mutual since the thing (which can apparently **__**TALK**__**) can't remember his name for shit, either.**_

_**Speaking of names, I've gotta come up with a nickname for that kid. His human name, 'Matthew', doesn't sound nearly as cool as it should be! I've got a whole list running through my head right now, from 'Pancakanator' to 'Mattikins'. Eh. I'm the awesome Prussia, I'll figure something out…**_

Matthew felt his heart tug a miniscule amount at the sight of the familiar neat handwriting, unable to stop a small smile from forming on his face.

Whatever doubt he had that this diary was a fake immediately vanished after reading the first entry (granted, if it could get past Ludwig, then its authenticity was practically guaranteed). It all sounded so Julchen. He could completely imagine her writing something along those lines.

"She did end up coming back," He said, his hand supporting his cheek as he re-read the entry. "And she came up with my nickname."

"_This place is totally awesome, Canada! I'd like to come back again soon, but preferably during the warmer weather. Seriously, would it kill you to turn up the heat around here?" Julchen teased, wrapping her scarf firmly around her neck, an impish grin (one he had a feeling would become extremely familiar soon) residing amongst her angular cheekbones. _

_Matthew's eyes grew wide at her statement. "C-come back?" He stammered out of surprise instead of the dropping temperature, almost slipping on a thick patch of ice as the two made their way onto the ship docks for Prussia's return home._

"_Yeah, why wouldn't I come back?" She asked, handing her luggage to a servant to place onto the boat, her hands rubbing at her arms to preserve some body heat._

_Canada cascaded his line-of-sight onto some snow residing on his shoe to avoid looking at her, given how pathetic he'd probably sound. "T-to be honest…n-not many countries remember me, much less come back to visit." He admitted, a furious blush rising on his face._

_A 'kesesese' (again, something he had a feeling would become familiar) broke through his thoughts, as he looked back up to see Prussia grinning, hair strands whiter than the snow surrounding them poking out from beneath her feathered hat. "I guess I'll have to be the first then," She declared, fist pumping the air. "Typical of the awesome me!"_

_The Canadian's surprised look was replaced by a happy one, knowing (with luck) someone would come back to visit him. "I'll make sure to prepare pancakes!" He attempted to shout to the albino climbing aboard the ship bound for Germany and Prussia, failing due to his whispery voice._

_Assuming she didn't hear him, the blonde turned his back and began his walk for his home, stopping when hearing a sentence that would change his life:_

"_Birdie! That's your nickname, since you remind me of an awesome bird!"_

_He turned around, his cheeks hurting from how badly he was smiling. "Okay!" He managed to shout in a semi-normal voice, his hand high in the air as he waved goodbye to her, still waving even when her ship became a faint dot on the horizon of the sun._

While many assume that being a country would be wonderful, what with immortality and money from the government, there were many downsides known only to those select few individuals who represented the world, one of them being the inability to forget even the most miniscule of details.

Matthew could remember everything from that day in particular. He remembered the way the sunset hit the trees and cast shadows behind them, he remembered the soft texture of snow beneath his feet, and he remembered the gentle splosh of ocean water against the ship docks. Just like all those things, Julchen's happy and victorious expression was permanently burned into his mind.

…Along with her closed eyes and hands folded limply over her chest as she slept for all eternity in a box.

No matter how many times the Canadian shook his head to get rid of the horrendous images that prickled in his brain, he couldn't get them out. They stood out in agonizing detail now as they did then.

Seeing nothing but her lying deceased in a box, Matthew turned the page.

_**May 27**__**th**__**, 1740**_

_**The Great Prussia's Diary**_

_**I am awesome! Today, I met with Francis to discuss Roddy's situation involving his beloved Maria Theresa. He seemed up with the thought of us forming an alliance against sissy Austria, and if he's willing to cooperate, Antonio will be too! The Piano-Pansy will rue the day he ever tried claiming the Habsburg Throne! Now if Hungary could keep her nose (and preferably her frying pan) out of this, it'll go accordingly to Freddy-the-Second and I's plan!**_

_**Birdie was also at the meeting today, since he's a colony of Francis' and all. He's a sneaky little bastard for managing to get past my attention for so long, I'll give him that. Apparently, he's also a sneaky little bastard for managing to get past Eyebrows' attention. Now that I find stupid. Come on, he's the second largest land mass in the world! But I guess that adds to my awesomeness if I'm one of the few people that notices him. It also means I get special pancakes, too. I swear, Canadian pancakes are what dreams are made of.**_

_**Aaaand now I'm craving Heavenly-goodness, again. No matter, I'll simply convince him to make me more with my awesomeness. Seriously, my awesomeness is a renewable resource. **_

The Canadian laughed a bit at the last statement, nodding in agreement since she did go off and demand more pancakes even though she finished an entire stack, beforehand.

"_Seriously, Julchen?" He responded in an exasperated tone, his spatula in one hand and his other residing on his hip in a house-wife mannerism. "I just made you some!"_

_Prussia 'kesesese'd, turning on the iron stove and grabbing a white apron (forcing Canada to accept the frilly pink one) to wrap around her waist. "Don't worry about it, Birdie! The awesome me will help!" She exclaimed with a spatula-holding fist to the ceiling. _

_Despite her enthusiasm, Julchen was not the best at making the specified dish. She and Matthew decided to make separate batters to 'test her awesome cooking skills' after he taught her the basics of making pancakes. _

_In all his years of cooking, Canada had never known of someone who could set their batter on fire after trying to cook for less than two minutes._

_And Matthew hung around __Arthur Kirkland__._

"_Here you go, Birdie," The Prussian proclaimed to the Canadian when she set the stack of pancakes in front of him. "Eat the golden-brown pancakes," She grinned, curious to see the ultimate pancake-master's response to her creation._

_But the pancakes are purple__, He remembered thinking as he shakily stabbed a piece with his fork, and mentally prepared himself to meet his maker as he put it in his mouth._

"_How is it?" She asked, all but jumping up and down given her excitement._

_He somehow managed a smile. "Y-y-you can t-taste the a-awesome," He lied, not having the heart to tell her how mind-numbingly horrible they were._

_Julchen's screech of joy made the unspeakable stomach pain that followed, bearable._

Matthew grimaced when remembering how wretched he felt the rest of the evening, yet smiled when remembering how happy and proud Julchen was for the next week (the entire time politely declining when she offered to make more of her abomination).

Still dwelling on the thought of how often she smiled during that week, he turned the page.

His dream-like daze vanished as he lightly touched various places in the paper where signs of water droplets were visible, blurring the (unusually) messy handwriting together and making it difficult to read.

"Oh no," He breathed, his stomach knotting up at the question of what could have made her cry. "What happened?"

_**August 18**__**th**__**, 1786**_

_**I was…not so awesome, yesterday. Old Fritz died yesterday in his study in Sanssouci. I just- I still can't believe he's **__**gone**__**! **_

_**He was really amazing, you know? To the point where not even 'awesome' can describe him! He was the best boss I've ever had, and I'll never get to see him again!**_

_**I went to Birdie's temporary estate in my country. I figured that since I went to visit him so much at France's place, he might as well have a place in Prussia (not to mention that it would be easier for him to make pancakes for me). I practically broke his door in my fit of tears. TEARS! Awesome people don't cry, certainly not me! Yet I, much like his door, broke down right in front of him…**_

_**Being a sweetie, he made my usual Canadian fix to cheer me up, and then lent an ear as I went off on a rant regarding my memories with Freddy. While I'm better than before, I'm still unable to believe that he's…dead. It's so surreal, like I expect to hear him playing his flute, or see him reading in his study until the early hours of the morning. **_

_**His burial will be taking place soon. He requested in his will to be placed next to his beloved pet dogs when his time was up. I only hope I'll be strong enough to attend without shedding a tear. **_

_**Rest in Peace, Old Fritz. I knew you would be great, someday.**_

Matthew reread the paragraphs of the entry, the sunlight making the words appear like droplets of obsidian on the pale pages, his violet orbs as glassy as the spectacles threatening to slip off his face.

He couldn't help but be surprised after reading Julchen's description regarding the death of a loved one. It was disturbing how accurate it was. Always expecting to hear the deceased's voice or see them doing things they usually did, only to be reminded that they were gone…

Living in an illusion, even if it was a momentary, cruel one.

As cliché as it sounded, he forgot how long it was before he stopped expecting to see or hear her as if she was still alive.

"_It is bound to happen if you knew them for several hundred years, Matthieu," The French personification informed, giving the Canadian a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, the latter still staring after the white-haired female, who was briskly walking away from the two considering Matthew did grab her wrist out of nowhere._

"_I could have sworn it was her," Matthew mumbled embarrassedly, his hands in the pockets of his winter jacket, the wind making his face feel numb with cold. "She had her hair, her eyes-"_

"_Yet it was __not__ her, mon cher," Francis reminded, forcing the younger blonde to look at him. "You need to accept that."_

_Canada averted his father's sapphire gaze out of self-pity. "I know, papa," He sighed, his eyelashes catching snowflakes falling from the sky. "It's just a hard habit to break."_

_France sighed as well, wrapping his arms around Canada and pulling him into a comforting hug. "Trust me, Matthieu," He breathed, his head resting on top of his son's blonde curls, not even realizing he was crying. "I've experienced what you're feeling. And, while it's hard, you'll manage eventually."_

It took a long time before he accepted the fact that she was dead. That she would never barge into his house demanding pancakes. That she would never celebrate his birthday with him. That she would never break out of her coffin as part of an elaborate prank.

It was a harsh and difficult time before he accepted it, and, while he did eventually give in to reality, it didn't mean he was happy.

"Even reading this is an example of how I'm still living in the past," He murmured in a quieter tone than his usual whisper, brushing back his blonde curls with the palm of his hand. "In a way, I'm still not accepting it even though it's unhealthy."

Would Julchen be happy if she knew he was like this? He was still remembering her, something she wanted more than anything else.

It was food for his thoughts, he decided, turning the next page. Something he planned to elaborate on later.

_**April 18**__**th**__**, 1792**_

_**The Great Prussia's Diary**_

_**I was so awesome, today! I warned Birdie about the upcoming French Revolutions so that he could get back to his country while he still could. While I've heard rumors that he's a beast on the ice, I don't want to risk him getting caught up in nasty French business that he isn't even involved in. What kind of an awesome nation would I be if I couldn't even warn him about a war? I probably wouldn't be worth my salt.**_

…_**That should be a quote. I don't know how, but it should. Seriously.**_

_**With luck, he'll be packing and on a ship back home before tomorrow evening. Knowing Eyebrows, the French naval route will be blocked to make it harder on him getting much-needed materials during the revolution, again. While I know France can make do, I'm more worried about Birdie getting out without any hassle. The minute things get ugly in Paris, they'll shut off their ports from everyone going in and out of France (God, please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks that sounds **__**wrong**__**), with the exception of supply ships.**_

_**While Birdie isn't entirely under Francis's control, he still deals with him financially. I only hope that, however long this crazy stuff goes on, he ends up okay.**_

_**Damn, I sound like I'm going soft. What happened to the awesome, badass, shit-beating nation I used to be? Well, I'm still awesome, but help me out here, Old Frtiz?**_

Matthew's head tilted in confusion when reading the last few paragraphs. He read them twice, three times before sitting up, the notebook still on his lap.

He readjusted his glasses, staring at the page littered with Julchen's thoughts and opinions. It was unusual to hear Julchen speak so fondly of him even though, in comparison to other countries she had known, she barely knew him!

"If it was anyone else, she would have probably left them on their own, depending on their relationship with her." The Canadian personification thought aloud, fingering the edge of the page mindlessly, still staring at the paper. "Was she only looking out for me because of what I could do for her, or because she genuinely cared?"

He mock-gasped in a manner found in Japan's anime. "What if she only loved me for my pancakes?"

He shook his head after that, dismissing the idea after a moment of consideration. "She wasn't one to open up or care for others easily, so why would she go out of her way to warn me if she didn't know me too well in comparison to others?"

Canada felt a strange, warm feeling bloom in his chest at the thought of her possibly caring for him, in spite of how long they knew each other. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, making him wish once again that he possess a wide range of emotional knowledge like his father, France.

Whatever it was, he could remember this same sensation sprout around the personification of Prussia, the first time being when he visited her estate to warn her of France's upcoming attack, yet it had been so long since he felt it, he had no idea what to think.

He turned the page in order to get his mind off the bizarre feeling continuing to spread like poison through the bloodstream.

_**July 1**__**st**__**, 1868**_

_**The Great Prussia's diary**_

_**I was so awesome, today! Today was Birdie's birthday, so I graced him with my awesome presence by spending the day with him! I took him out and had a picnic with him, and then afterwards, when it started raining, we danced in the rain! Though I wasn't planning on that, it was a nice touch to the end of his birthday!**_

…_**Granted, now I feel like I'll probably get a cold, at least it was done for the sake of awesomeness. **_

_**Gah. Now I really wish my awesomeness could be used to cure stuffy noses. I sound like my tongue got stung by a bee. BUT I'M STILL AWESOME!**_

The Canadian laughed a bit when recalling the day after his birthday, which featured the two of them suffering colds together.

"_Happy birthday, Birdie," Julchen sniffled in a lisp-like manner, pressing a handkerchief to her runny nose, her cheeks awash with various shades of red. "Consider me gracing you with my awesome presence a second birthday gift."_

_She then proceeded to sneeze into her handkerchief several times in a row._

_Matthew rolled his eyes in mock-annoyance at her statement, handing her another fabric tissue when she finished her fit. Between the two of them, Matthew's throat was raw from mucus, Julchen's nose was runny with the same stuff, and both of them were sick of it (no pun intended). _

"_What do you want to do?" He coughed out, wincing as he rubbed his throat. "We're not going to go dancing in the rain again, Julchen." The blonde firmly stated, causing the albino to shrink with disappointment._

_A pregnant silence overtook the two, broken by the occasional coughing/sneezing fit. _

"…_Let's make sock puppets." She said in a completely serious tone._

"_Ok." He replied without hesitation, standing up from where they sat amongst used-up handkerchiefs and medicine bottles, before going upstairs and coming down with an arm's-worth of socks._

_Julchen reached over and grabbed a black sock, slipping it onto her hand and stretching it until it reached a little above her elbow. "Guten tag, Birdie," She began in a low, heavily accented German accent. "Have you seen the awesome Julchen?"_

"_Her hand is currently inside you. She can't be that far, Mr. Puppet." Matthew managed to say, doubling over and breaking into a fit of laughter/ coughing from said laughter, eventually joined by Julchen with her hiss-like/nasally-at-the-moment laughter._

_When they stopped, Matthew grabbed a white sock and covered his hand with it. "Hello Mr. Puppet," He began, his throat feeling less scratchy. "How does it feel to have a hand up your ass?"_

"_Much better than a foot, which is what Birdie will be getting if he keeps not taking my puppet skills seriously." Julchen responded before bursting into a fit of laughter yet again, Matthew joining her._

_Because of how long they kept talking and playing with the sock puppets, the two of them didn't get better for another two days. But it was worth it, if the amount of inside jokes and bouts of laughter that emerged from those puppets meant anything._

He didn't realize he had turned the page until he blinked and noticed a new entry. So, he began reading.

_**August 4**__**th**__**, 1914**_

_**Today wasn't so awesome. England decided to fight against Ludwig since he refused to withdraw his forces from Belgium. While fighting against England won't be much of a hassle, it'll be more difficult to fight against the Allies knowing that Birdie's on their side. Granted, he was forced into it by Eyebrows, but the point still remains that he and I are enemies.**_

_**Though Ludwig and I are on the same side, we're both fighting for different reasons; he's fighting to become a global dominant power while I'm fighting to not only protect him, but to help make him happy. If he finds happiness in accomplishing his goal, then I'll help him win. England and Birdie, though…**_

_**England's fighting as a result of Ludwig violation of the 1839 Treaty of London, as well as to protect Belgium. Yet Birdie's fighting all because he's forced to! What's the point of fighting if you don't have something to fight for?**_

_**Regardless of the fact we're now enemies, Birdie used his sneaky-bastard powers to get under Eyerbrows' radar again so he could visit me. I was surprised since he came to wish me luck with keeping Ludwig safe, as well as check in on me. Why is it that he always goes out of his way to make sure I'm alright? Whether making pancakes when I'm upset, or visiting me to inform me of a war, he's always tried to help me even if he gains nothing from it!**_

_**Again, just when I think I have him all figured out, he pulls something that makes me reconsider him as a whole. I don't understand him, sometimes.**_

"'What's the point in fighting if you don't have something to fight for'." He quoted, his hand resting on his cheek, his amethyst orbs half-lidded in memories. After a moment, he rubbed his temples and reread the last few sentences of her journal entry.

This was beginning to become painful since it was around that time when everything started falling apart for the two of them. The World War ended up starting shortly after that last encounter in Belgium's territory, followed by Julchen's increasing distance away from him, followed by…everything else falling like a house of cards.

"'Oh Julchen," He murmured, tucking some stray strands of blonde hair behind his ear. "You always had a tendency to make things seem more complicated than they actually were."

Ignoring the monotonous thump of his heart in his chest, he turned the page to continue reading.

The warm feeling still spread through his body, circulating like adrenaline, acting like a unique form of adrenaline on his psyche and propelling him to keep reading. When giving it consideration, Matthew had a hypothesis on what the sensation's name was, yet he was unwilling to say its name aloud out of fear he'd never be able to take it back again.

_**September 2**__**nd**__**, 1914**_

_**I'm scared. So very, very, unawesomely scared. Russia took me and the rest of my country captive. I can't write so much today because he might catch me and punish me. His punishments are sadistic and inhumane to the point where I can't even describe how horrid it is. **_

_**It's so dark and cold here, I can't feel my fingers as I write this. What I'd give for some pancakes, my stomach would probably eat itself if it could. Birdie hasn't visited me since the war began, since he's with the Allies against his will. I miss him a lot. **_

_**I hear footsteps coming towards my room. I have to stop writing now or else Russia might come and hurt me again.**_

The blonde's face turned pale as the writing for that particular entry stopped there, his wide eyes taking in the amount of damage on the page, noticing how shaky her handwriting appeared this time. In spite of her seemingly lazy and careless aura, she was surprisingly punctual and diligent given her many years in the military, the same punctuality and diligence reflecting even in her handwriting!

For even her handwriting to be almost incomprehensible, combined with the numerous red blotches making the writing even more difficult to read, she must have been genuinely afraid.

A different feeling, another one he hadn't experienced in a long time, brewed within his chest. Still warm, not as warm yet somehow just as deadly as the first: Rage.

The Canadian could still see the Prussian sitting in her seat, her hair and clothes grey with the aftershocks of the Great War, quiet with her regret and overwhelming fear, in the Palace of Versailles. He could still feel her trembling even when he hugged her, tears spilling down her bloodless cheeks, her voice somehow more whispery than his own.

He reluctantly turned the page.

_**December 24**__**th**__**, 1918**_

_**Although the war finished in November, the scars are taking much longer to heal for Ludwig and I. Even though it was his goal to become a global dominant power, he's ended up even worse than when he started. He's under a lot of stress given the immense debt from the war, and many of the countries refuse to even look at him, now. It hurts me to see him so unhappy. **_

_**The only motivation I really had to fight against so many of my fellow countries, like Francis, Feliciano, Kiku, and Birdie, was to protect and make Ludwig happy. Yet my efforts were futile. **_

_**Birdie hasn't talked to me since the time in Belgium in 1914. England apparently wasn't kidding when he ordered Birdie to not see me again. I think that's for the best though, knowing how-God, I **__**killed**__** his soldiers! His own citizens! I heard their screams and watched the light fade from their eyes! **_

_**Once, I was walking through a battlefield to get a count of how many German soldiers were dead, and came across a Canadian soldier who was barely alive. He had his legs blown off by a bomb and was hanging on by a thread. He reached out to me and begged for my help, yet I pulled out my gun and shot him through the head! **_

_**I keep dreaming of that time, only instead of the soldier, I see Birdie with his legs blown off and asking for help. I see the fear enter his eyes as I press a gun to his forehead. **_

_**I don't know if I can look him in the eye after all that happened. After all I've done. Even if he tries to contact me again, I'll keep him away even if I have to run and scream at him. I don't want him to feel like he has to protect me even though I've killed his people. **_

"So that's why you told me to stay away from you," He mumbled, unconsciously turning the black cross necklace over and over in his palm. "You tried pushing me away, not only for your sake, but for mine as well."

He continued to stare at the page for a moment, the silence deafening to his ears. Matthew could remember the months following the end of the Great War. How badly she had been influenced by the Great War. How she was close to tears when they made eye contact. How it had rendered her physically wounded and psychologically destroyed.

A heavy sigh escaped his slightly-chapped lips at the thought of what journal entry would undoubtedly arise soon.

He turned the page before he could question whether or not he could finish reading, again.

_**June 28**__**th**__**, 1919**_

_**Today wasn't awesome at all. Today was the fifth anniversary of the assassination of the Austrian/sissy Archduke Franz Ferdinand, not to mention today Ludwig was practically forced by the Allies to sign the Treaty of Versailles. As penance for 'causing all the loss and damage', he was forced to disarm, make substantial territorial concessions, and pay reparation costs to certain countries!**_

_**Birdie finally broke through to Eyebrows about the not-seeing-me thing. I overheard him talking to Eyebrows, saying how it's would be in his best interests to be in Ludwig and I's best interests since Germany could be an important trading partner in the future. I'm grateful for the fact that Ludwig might not be as screwed over as I initially thought. **_

_**I'm not as grateful for what Birdie did, though. **_

_**Those nightmares I mentioned before still haunt me. Only they're much worse as the months have passed. Birdie hugged me as soon as we were alone, asking about what's happened to me. I eventually snapped and shoved him away since I keep seeing the numerous corpses of his soldiers I slaughtered without hesitation. **_

_**I don't want him to come any closer to me, not while I'm like this. For both of our sakes. **_

_**I don't want him to somehow get hurt by me. **_

"_YOU CAN HELP ME BY STAYING AWAY, MATTHEW!" _

He turned the page.

_**September 9**__**th**__**, 1939**_

_**I swear to God, Birdie is so infuriating! **_

_**Birdie tried convincing me to join the Allies before it was 'too late' as he put it, and we ended up getting in a huge fight over it. **_

_**Why can't he just leave me alone?! I'm fully capable of making my own decisions; I'm the awesome Prussia for God's sake! **_

_**Besides, I need to support Ludwig. Even though he isn't nearly as bad as he was when World War One ended, it's good for him to have as much help as possible! **_

_**I think he might have a chance at winning this one, though. I mean, he has Hitler at his side! He's been able to bring Ludwig out of the financial trouble established after the Great War, and can probably make Germany a global power! **_

_**And yet Birdie thinks Hitler's bad news?! He thinks the man who's actually been able to bring hope into my brother's life is evil?! He has no idea how many sacrifices Ludwig and I have made to stay alive, how much blood, sweat, and tears we've shed to make West's dream a reality!**_

_**Why can't he understand that I'm not a baby and that I don't need his help?! He's just like America, always convinced he has to protect me even when I don't need protecting, even though I'm fully capable of standing on my own two feet! I've been able to thrive as a nation much longer than he has, hell, I think I'm older than him! **_

_**I don't need him! I'm perfectly fine being alone, since clustering is for the weak anyway!**_

_**I wish we had never even met!**_

Matthew didn't realize he was crying until he saw tear drops dot the last line.

"No, n-no," He hiccupped, quickly wiping his cheeks to get rid of the saltwater stains, eventually removing his glasses and feverishly rubbing his eyes.

"Stop crying!" He exclaimed, the tears running down the sides of his hands, his throat closing up and making it difficult to swallow, his shoulders beginning to shake with unvoiced sobs.

"Time is supposed to heal all wounds," He spoke in a hoarse whisper as the tears kept on coming, pressing his palms to his eyes in a futile effort to stop crying. "Yet it only gets worse as the years go by."

"_I need to do this to protect myself and my kingdom."_

"_I only want to protect my brother, and to make him happy. And if he finds happiness in winning the war and accomplishing his goal, I will help him win."_

"_YOU CAN HELP ME BY STAYING AWAY, MATTHEW! JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME!"_

"_Though West has been getting better. Much better than before, all thanks to Adolf."_

"_Join me in this war, Birdie. Arthur forced you to join the Great War, and I don't want to possibly fight against you again. We can fight together and win. We can have everything be as it used to, and much more."_

"_Dammit, Matthew, I'm a nation, not a child! Just leave me alone for once in your life, will you?!"_

"_Just when I think I have you all figured out, Matthew, you go off and pull something that makes me reconsider you as a whole!"_

"_Because of your stupid hero complex, Julchen's dead, and she's __never coming back!__"_

"_All she wanted was to make her brother happy. That's all she really wanted. She wasn't a monster."_

"_The sooner you understand that we're all stained in blood, the better off you'll be."_

"_Yet it was __not__ her, mon cher. You need to accept that."_

"_Trust me, Matthieu, I've experienced what you're feeling. And, while it's hard, you'll manage eventually."_

'_I wish Julchen and I could always be together like this.'_

"_Birdie! That's your nickname, since you remind me of an awesome bird!"_

"_I HATE YOU!"_

"Julchen," He croaked out, removing his hands from his eyes and retrieving the black iron cross, holding it to his chest. "I'm so sorry for what I said. I'm so sorry for all the pain I must have caused you. I wish I could have been strong enough to cross the borders and scale the walls established by World War Two, just to apologize to you."

The warm feeling from before felt like it was burning every fiber of his being, overwhelming all the emotions slipping through his cracking mask built upon calm and patience. He felt like he knew the name of the sensation, something he hadn't experienced in decades given Prussia's passing, and felt like he had to say it out loud before he lost the chance.

"I love you, Julchen," Matthew admitted, putting on his glasses again and looking up through the skylights of his ceiling, tears still streaming down his cheeks. He smiled sadly when seeing what a beautiful, bright shade of blue the sky was. "I always loved you."

Yes, the four-letter word felt so nice to say, and it made sense. Before, he never questioned his sudden urges to hug or visit her, to protect her and be by her side always. It seemed strange, but he never thought twice about it, almost as if it was natural.

For a child of France, he was quite horrible at recognizing love. Yet he never got the chance to say it to her.

Though now that he had a good idea of what he felt, he decided to say everything.

"I loved how you never failed to notice me. I loved how you always visited me when you got the chance to. I loved how you thought my pancakes were Heavenly-goodness. I loved how you treated every day like the end of the world was tomorrow. I loved how brilliant, kind-hearted, and awesome you were (and still are). I loved your laugh, your brain, your smile, your heart, and the mischievous light in your eye that was always present." Matthew stopped there only to brush away the remnants of tears from his face, before smiling a genuine smile.

"Though I was too oblivious and unable to tell you any of that, I treasured the times we spent together. I was happy to be by your side as a fellow nation, a 'Pancakanator', a friend. And I love you."

He turned back to Julchen's journal, still left on the entry regarding their fight, and turned the page so he could read the next entry, only to find it blank.

He turned the page after that, and found no entry. He turned the next couple of pages and found nothing but blank pieces of paper.

"I guess that's the end of it," Matthew sighed, finally closing the diary.

"And, on February 25th, 1947, the Allied Control Council would call for the official dissolution of Prussia, and of Julchen Beilschmidt." He reminded himself as he set the book on his bedside table. The personification of Canada glanced back at the black cross and slipped it around his neck, the metal cold against his skin. He sighed.

"I only wish she had felt the same about me as well."

The Canadian known as Matthew Williams stood up and left his bedroom, leaving the diary beside his bed, assuming that was the end of her diary dedicated to her thoughts and opinions of him.

He was oblivious to the final journal entry of Julchen Beilschmidt which resided in the back of the diary.

_**February 24**__**th**__**, 1947**_

_**I know I won't be alive for much longer. That much is obvious.**_

_**The Axis lost the Second World War. Feli, Kiku, Luddy, and I all lost. **_

_**Luddy's taking it the hardest, what with being divided up between Alfred, Arthur, Francis, and Ivan, not to mention his reputation was demolished entirely.**_

_**I thought Hitler would be a positive influence on Ludwig. I thought he was a good man. But then he started going crazy…killing off innocent people because of who they were. Carting them off to concentration camps to be tortured and slaughtered off like pigs! Like they weren't even human! And he defended his actions by using Old Frtiz!? How dare the bastard use the greatest ruler Prussia had ever known to excuse himself?! I'm glad the sick man put a bullet into his head, I'm only sorry I wasn't the one to do it!**_

…_**Birdie tried to warn me. He tried to tell me that Adolf was bad news, that he was a bad man. He tried to protect me from this, but I didn't listen to him. I didn't listen to him at all!**_

_**During the war, I drove all the anger I felt towards him into what I do best: killing. **_

_**All my life, I've been alone because of the stereotype I made for myself, what with how often I fought in battles. That I'm a horrid country notorious for bloodshed and ruthless, animalistic tendencies. So I went about declaring how awesome I was in order to create a shield. I figured that if I could lie to myself all the time, I would eventually believe it. How wrong I was.**_

_**But Matthew saw through it all. Saw through the facades I established onto myself, and cared for me regardless of my faults and imperfections. He loved me in spite of it. **_

_**And yet, as Hitler grew stronger and the war raged on, I became what I feared the most:**_

_**I became what my stereotype depicted me as until it was no longer a stereotype, but who I truly was. A horrid country notorious for bloodshed and ruthless, animalistic tendencies. A monster. **_

_**And I'll never get a chance to tell Matthew how sorry I am for what I said. How, in the heat of our fight before World War Two started, I told him I hated him. **_

_**These few years, not a day had passed when I didn't think of our argument. When my heart didn't ache with depression, the organ feeling like it was made out of lead. When I didn't feel like trespassing enemy lines just to apologize and beg for forgiveness. When I didn't miss him.**_

_**I feel like I'm already dead, right now as I write this. As I think of everything between us. **_

_**I'd go off and apologize to him myself if I could walk. I'm bedridden, what with my country falling apart at the seams. I overheard rumors that the Allied Control Council is going to make me officially dissolve soon, that probably explaining my weakness.**_

_**I can't remember the last time I felt the sunshine. Nor can I remember the feel of the grass beneath my feet, or the sensation of water spilling through my fingers. **_

_**Oh God. I'm going to die.**_

_**Is this how it felt for you, Freddy, when you realized you were going to die?**_

…_**I'm going to die without ever doing the things I want to do. Without proving to the world that Prussia is a force to be reckoned with. Without making fun of Roderich for his piano playing or getting hit by Elizabeta's frying pan (kind of glad for that one, actually) or telling Birdie how sorry I am. **_

_**I can't really see if my writing is good or not because of how much I'm crying right now. I don't care at this point. I just hope whoever is reading this in the future can tell everyone how much I love them all and I'll miss them so much. That I'm sorry for being a monster. For everything that I've done to deserve the hate. **_

_**Whoever is reading this, please do me a favor and give this journal to Birdie. Please.**_

_**Tell him to wait until he gets back to Canada, his home country, to read it. Not on a plane or at an airport, but when he's home. **_

_**Birdie, if you're reading this, thank you for everything that you've done for me. How you always made the awesomest pancakes for me when I asked. How you always went out of your way to make sure I was safe. How you tried protecting me even though I was too stubborn to realize how big of a mistake I was making. How, when everyone else saw the bloodthirsty and powerhungry Prussia, you saw Julchen Beilschmidt.**_

_**I'm so sorry I caused you so much unnecessary drama, unnecessary hardship, unnecessary pain. I'm sorry I told you I hated you. I wish I could take those words back. I wish we could go back to the days I took for granted, the days filled with sunshine, pancakes, and you. I wish we could make snow forts and have you kick my ass at snow ball fights, I wish we could dance while it's raining, I wish we could just talk. Talk about anything and everything that comes to our minds. **_

_**I wish I could see you smile that wonderful smile of yours, one more time. Just one more time. **_

_**Matthew Williams, Canada, 'Birdie', I am completely, entirely, and awesomely in love with y**_


End file.
